A Matter of Need
by binkykiatch
Summary: COMPLETE And what if I don’t want to love him? The Oracle shook her head at Hermione. No, child. It’s not about want… It’s more a a matter of need. How do you love someone because you have to? Hermione and Severus are about to find out.
1. Chapter One

  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: "And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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A Matter of Need

Chapter One  


"Now would be a good time to go, Miss Granger, before I need to start deducting points for being out beyond even your curfew."

Hermione started and set the measuring vial down on the table with a sharp tap. She blinked, then turned to look at Snape as if she had never seen a human being before. All his own work had been cleared away and he was stood at the door waiting to lock up.

"I'm sorry, sir. What did you say?"

Snape emitted a low growl. "I said now would be a good time to go, Miss Granger."

"Oh. Oh!" Her eyes widened and she began to hurriedly pack her ingredients away, the glass clinking noisily in the silent classroom. "Um- sir?"

He sighed exasperatedly. "What?"

"It needs a few more hours to simmer, can I leave it overnight, please? I'll come back in the morning and clear it up before our lesson."

He frowned at her, but he knew the eagerness and dedication, and especially the absorption, all too well. "Fine."

Her face cracked into a timid grin and she quickly cast a few safeguarding charms on the cauldron. She gathered her bag and picked up her robes, then made to leave.

"Thank you, Professor. Goodnight."

He simply looked at her blankly and she turned to leave, but not before he saw the disappointment in her eyes. Did the girl really expect him to say goodnight? He watched her hurry up the stone steps until she was swallowed by darkness. The only sign she was there was the receding tapping of her heels on the stone, and only when he could hear them no longer did he finally swing the door shut and perform the necessary locking charms.

With a lingering glance at her softly bubbling potion, he crossed his eerily silent classroom and exited through his office and into his private quarters. No fire burned in the hearth, there were no personal possessions whatsoever, and the old, dark furniture and hangings made it a rather unwelcoming and formidable place. And that was how Snape liked it.

He threw his robes over the chair and unbuttoned the top of his dark shirt. Making his way over to the drinks cabinet – which was almost ritual after his seventh-year Gryffindor-Slytherin class – he eyed the scrolls scattered over his desk, his untidy red scrawl covering the pages with his usual snide comments. Marking … Oh what joy! he thought with bitter sarcasm.

He determinedly ignored the pile of essays that still needed to be marked and poured himself a Firewhiskey. He didn't even wince as the liquid burned the back of his throat, nor did he feel the warmth spread through him like that accustomed with the alcohol.

His thoughts travelled to the potion in his classroom, and to the young witch that had investigated, designed and brewed it. He shook his head as if trying to banish such thoughts from his mind. An action that failed.

There was no denying she was smart, but… She could regurgitate information so well it wasn't even funny, but clever in all the wrong ways. She needed to evolve her intelligence, he had said, develop an enquiring mind that could be used to research and create previously unbelievable things, and make advancements for the whole wizarding world. There is more, he had said, to being clever than reciting knowledge; it is the power to shape and apply what you know to different situations that makes you stand out.

Which is why he had been dumped with that blasted Gryffindor three nights a week. Minerva had found it very funny when she had suggested the idea…

He glowered at the amber liquid slowly swirling in the glass tumbler and slammed it down on the small coffee table. He crossed the room to where the unmarked papers adorned his desk and set to work, consoling himself on seeing the large pile that the comments he would come up with now would probably send the students crying.

It was a couple of hours later when he made his way to his bedroom, stiff-backed, ink splattered, and the little faith he had in his students totally diminished. 

He extinguished the lights, for even the ancient texts that lay on his bedside table did not interest him. In between the sheets there was a rare heat in the dungeons, thanks to his house elf, and Snape stretched out before pulling the covers around him and closing his eyes, even though he knew his sleep would be fitful at best…

-

The air was gently rippling around him, carrying the sweet smells of the blooming flowers that lined the cobbled road. The sunlight that managed to penetrate the almost tropical looking trees overhead was blinding, casting a white light over everything and giving the place a pure, heavenly feel.

He felt sorely out of place. A black speck amidst the seemingly endless white.

"Ah, Severus. I have been expecting you."

Snape whirled round to face the woman. The white dress that fluttered around her full figure gave her an ethereal look, and a small but intricate necklace hung around her neck. She hitched her shawl up around her shoulders and gestured down the road.

"Why don't we walk."

Snape nodded at walked with the woman. At a loss as to what to say, he stayed silent, the only sound being the sharp click of his heels on the cobbles. Bright pink and white petals fell to the floor around him, and with them a sense of calm. But that still didn't stop him being Snape.

"Why am I here?" he said abruptly. As if to annoy him further, the woman merely chuckled.

"I wondered how long it would take you to ask." She shook her head and her dark curls bobbed about her face. "Why do you think?"

Snape looked blankly at her. He didn't know, but his questions were disrupted as he studied her with his scrutinising look. He couldn't guess how old she was simply by looking; her face looked a reasonable age, yet her eyes were haunted, as if she had seen terrible things. But still, her smile was warm and friendly, and the grey hairs had yet to mingle with the black.

He started and looked away, her steady gaze unnerving.

"Child, I am timeless, as is the place we are in." She couldn't help but smile when his head snapped up to look at her.

"You can read minds?"

"No, of course not," she said, her voice reprimanding, but her lips twitched into a smile. "To read a mind is impossible, don't you remember?" she added innocently.

He snarled at her and she chuckled again.

"You didn't answer my question," he asked instead.

"No… No, I didn't." She resumed walking and Snape had no choice but to follow. They came to a large open courtyard with a magnificent fountain in the middle. Women were congregated in small groups or on their own, all dressed in white, though each one appeared to be different. A gentle laugh floated on the breeze that ruffled his hair and made his clothes rustle.

"Who are they?" he asked, his voice hushed for a reason he didn't know.

"Some of them will make it onto the High Council, one will take over from me when I… cease to exist."

Snape shot her a sidelong glance.

"This, Severus, is our Haven. We are all Oracles, Seers, Prophets."

Snape stopped dead. "What?"

"Welcome to our Haven. I'm sure you can now guess why you're here."

"No…"

She stopped walking and turned so she was directly facing him and studied him. She eventually said quietly, "Sometimes things just don't go right and you guys need a… a helping hand. Times are troubled, and the future doesn't look that bright either, but – and there's always a but – there is light to come. When, I cannot say, but there will be a release, some time. Do not give up hope."

"I don't think I have a lot of hope left," he whispered.

She reached out and gently cupped his cheek; an action that he would normally not have allowed, yet it was an almost frightening prospect to pull away from her. She smiled warmly, her eyes never leaving his.

"You like her, even if you don't know it yet. That will turn into love, though perhaps first will come irritation, exasperation, even embarrassment. But eventually, love."

Snape opened his mouth, then snapped it closed again. "But- I-" He shook his head and said weakly, "I don't think I had a lot of love to begin with." He turned away and ran a hand through his hair. "I think you've got it wrong; very, very wrong. I'm sorry but…"

"Always the but…"

"I don't love," he said loudly, and his voice echoed around the courtyard. "I don't even like people-"

"And yet you like her."

"Her? Who is she? How- Merlin! Like I said, I don't love, I don't want it, I have never felt it, and I hardly need it at this point in my life."

She shook her head sadly. "How wrong you are. You have loved before, Severus, and you know it. That is nothing, though, compared to what is to come. As for never knowing love? Next time you walk through the halls of Hogwarts and see your colleagues, look them in the eye and you will see it. They care for you, Severus, no matter how hard you deny it. Albus and Minerva see you as their own! And you know what, you care for them too." She sighed heavily. "Yet the worst thing is that you do need love in this life, unless you… wish your life to end."

Severus narrowed his eyes at her.

"Are- are you saying that- that-"

"Hush, child," she whispered, raising her hand to stop him. "Heed my words. Never ignore them." Tears were shining in her eyes and Severus looked at her, concerned and confused. "I'm sorry. I truly am. You have a good soul in there-" Here Severus let out a hollow laugh and she brought her hand down and patted over his heart "- and you never forget that. What you did, what is happening, and what you are about to do… Just remember what I have said."

"You said there is always a but. What if I fall in love but I don't act on it?"

"Then… Then you die."

Snape blinked at her for a moment, still taking in her words, then nodded once. Immediately the world began to fade, the colour slowly draining away, leaving only him stood in a world of white.

"Remember…" said a small voice, though it was so soft it could have been a whisper of the wind.

"How- How will I know- When… She?"

"You will know," was the reply.

Then the world turned black.

-

He awoke with a fierce start. Panting heavily, he pushed the covers away frantically. Sweat ran down his face and his body shuddered uncontrollably. He slowly managed to regulate his erratic breathing and shakily made his way to his bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, clutching onto the sides of the washbasin, he stared at his reflection. He was only trembling now, and he was beginning to regain his normal thought processes…

"What the hell?"

He rubbed a slightly shaky hand over his face.

Oracles? They existed, didn't they? He had always doubted them, as no one had ever proven their existence, but Seers existed, even though not in the form of that Trelawney upstairs…

But why him? To tell him that he was going to fall in love?

He laughed out loud and the sound reverberated around the tiled room, hollow, humourless.

He would never fall in love… yet he had once, but that- that was to remain in his past. But now? He falls in love and acts on it so he doesn't die?

The bell rang throughout the school. It took him a moment to realise what this meant. He darted to his clothes and took out a pocket watch that informed him he was going to be late for his first lesson. He growled at anything and everything before hastily pulling on fresh clothes and robes.

When he finally pulled his classroom door open, his seventh year Gryffindor-Slytherin class froze. He moved aside to let them in and, on his way past, Draco Malfoy stopped.

"Are you okay, Professor? You look like you didn't sleep well last night," he said, his voice oozing with false innocence. The look on Snape's face made even Malfoy step back in alarm and rush out of the Professor's way.

The matter of life and death could wait until later. Right now, he had a class to teach, and first he had to survive through that.

-

Thanks for reading! Look out for the next chapter next week. :)


	2. Chapter Two

  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: "And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.  
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A Matter of Need

Chapter Two

Something was up. Hermione could tell. After only a couple of months working in his lab, Hermione would hardly say that she knew Snape, but she was a perceptive person, and she knew that something was wrong.

His mood was worse than normal and points were deducted before everyone had even entered the classroom, but all this could be accredited to anything. What caught Hermione's attention was the look deep in his eyes. She had got used to seeing the haunted look, but what was deep within them now was something new.

Snape caught her watching him and raised an annoyed eyebrow. She blushed and immediately ducked her head and continued with her potion. He patrolled the rows, stopping occasionally to inspect the Slytherins' 'excellent' potions, or to remark at the 'abysmal' state of the Gryffindors' work. Yet all the while his mind was elsewhere.

He didn't know any women who he could love. Hell, he didn't know any he liked! There were the other members of staff, but that thought sent shivers of disgust down his spine. Minerva, Poppy, Xiomara, and the rest, they were all either old, or annoying, or even both. Besides, Minerva was Dumbledore's, and surely the others had a relationships with someone.

The only other females he knew were Death Eaters. Never a good starting point for a relationship… There were always his research partners and other members of the potions profession, but after- He cut off that line of thought immediately. He had vowed never to follow that same path again, and he wasn't going to resurface the old memories any time soon.

The bell rang out and the footsteps of a thousand children echoed through the castle. His class hurried from his room, desperate to escape without being given a detention. Apart from Miss Granger. He managed to resist the urge to groan – or hex her – and looked expectantly at her.

"What?"

"I- I-" She blushed and Snape noticed her awkwardly fiddling with the cuff of her robe. "I wanted to see if you were okay."

Snape blinked. He was truly taken aback. Most of the people he had met over the years knew better than – or were just plain scared – to question his wellbeing. And here was a seventh year girl asking if he was fine.

"I- I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I'll go now." She scurried out of the room as fast as she could without breaking into a run, sweeping past the next group of students: his second and – thankfully – last class of the day.

Slytherin-Ravenclaw second years. Little did they know that their lesson was to be worse than normal.

-

"So nice of you to join us, Severus," Dumbledore beamed, and pulled out the chair to his left. Snape groaned, but thought it a better option than next to Madam Hooch. He dropped into the chair and sat helplessly as the Headmaster proceeded to spoon piles of food onto his plate.

"Albus, I am not a child!"

"No, but you are as stubborn as one."

When he had finished, Snape gazed at his overloaded plate and wondered why he didn't eat in his rooms. He picked up his fork and prodded at the meat.

"You look tired, Severus."

"Really? How observant of you."

Dumbledore looked reprovingly at him over his glasses.

"What?" he snapped.

"Why are you offended so easily when someone is openly concerned about you? You know we all care about you, no matter how hard you deny it."

The words reverberated around Snape's mind and his uneasy stomach resumed its churning. That was exactly what the Oracle had said. He laid the cutlery down beside the plate.

"Excuse me." He rose, despite Dumbledore's protests, and left the hall, happy to find solace in his private rooms. He sank down into his usual chair by the unlit fire with his usual tumbler of Firewhiskey, yet his thoughts were anything but usual.

If he was actually honest with himself, he believed that he had met the Oracle. It had happened so few times that the meetings were not well documented, but if he trusted his instincts, which were usually right, he knew that his encounter was real. He had had enough dreams and nightmares in his life, and that certainly wasn't one of them.

But what did it all mean? If he didn't find and recognise his love, then he would die? There was more to it, he was certain, but the fundamental fact was that he was to fall in love, or else. But with who? She said that he would know. And why was the love so important? That, he guessed, he would find out.

Or die trying.

-

"Drinking already?"

"Headmaster, what can I do for you?"

"Nothing, nothing, you do plenty as it is."

Snape took a swig from his tumbler and studied Dumbledore sceptically over the glass. "What do you want?"

"World peace and Sherbet Lemons for all, but a drink would do for now." He watched as Snape poured him a drink and pushed it across the old wooden table. His normally steady hand shook slightly from fatigue and the dark patches under his eyes were accentuated against his paler-than-normal face. He picked up the glass and swirled the liquid, contemplating how to continue.

"Just say it, Dumbledore."

He eyed Snape, a smile tugging at his lips. "Always one to get straight to the point."

"Unlike some."

Dumbledore sighed. "I guess I'm just concerned. You look absolutely exhausted."

Snape snorted. "All things considered, I think I'm doing well," he said darkly.

The Headmaster lowered his untouched glass to his lap and studied Snape. "You are among the strongest people I know. Truly, Severus, I do not know how you do it."

"Because I have to!" Snape almost yelled and slammed the tumbler on the table. "It's not out of choice, Dumbledore, but because I have to!"

"Severus," Dumbledore whispered.

Snape followed his gaze to his hand. The glass had smashed, cutting the palm of his hand. Odd, he thought briefly, that it didn't hurt. With a last glance at the old man opposite, Snape strode into his bathroom and closed the door, effectively cutting off the Headmaster.

Running his bloody hand under the water, he looked at his reflection and turned away in disgust. The cuts had begun to sting, but compared to the pain he usually had to endure, it was nothing. He pulled out his wand and cleaned out the glass and healed it, not bothering to inspect how well the charm had worked.

He sighed deeply, preparing himself for the inevitable (yet unnecessary) anxiety of the old man. When he turned to leave the bathroom, however, a flash of silver caught his eye. Turning back to the mirror, he could find nothing that would cause the reflection, then, noticing something brushing against his chest, opened the next button of his shirt and pulled out the pendant that hung there.

As he held it in the palm of his hand, the first thing that struck him was the eye in centre, lovingly crafted in silver and oddly life like. It was surrounded by a triangle, pointed upwards, which in turn was surrounded by a circle. It wasn't very big, the whole thing small enough to be entirely enclosed in his grasp, and it hung on a silver chain.

Snape hadn't got a clue where it came from.

He turned it over, held it up in the light and examined it in detail, yet didn't find anything to show its origin. He ran his finger along the chain, searching for the clasp, but found none. He studied his reflection and couldn't quell the strange feeling that he had seen it somewhere before.

Dumbledore was starting to get worried by the time his Potions master resurfaced from the bathroom. He gathered up his robes and marched straight past him.

"Severus?"

"I have matters to see to, Headmaster. Thank you for your visit, I'm sure you can see yourself out."

"Severus!"

"What?" Snape span back round.

"I am merely worried about you. I only want to see that you are okay."

"I don't need your sympathy, Albus! Like I said, I must go." He marched from his rooms, leaving the Headmaster to watch his retreating back, wondering what was going on.

Snape's long legs carried him to the library in no time. He prowled along the rows, searching for a particular section, carefully avoiding the irritating students, and finally found the section he was looking for after resolving not to ask for help. He traced his fingers delicately along the spines of the various books until he found a promising title. He scanned the title page and gently flicked through.

A person invading his peripheral vision caused him to look up. Hermione Granger was eyeing him oddly. She seemed to be trying to see the cover of his book and he moved it out of her view and into the folds of his robes.

"What do you want, Miss Granger?"

"I- I was just wondering what you were doing here."

"What do you think I am doing? We are in a library… I have a book…" He raised an eyebrow.

Her eyes travelled from Snape, to the book in his hand, to the sign indicating the section just above his head.

"Divination?"

He growled. "Research."

"I- Sorry, I just didn't expect to see you here," she apologised, waving her hand to indicate this particular section of the library.

"And rightly so." He studied her. "And what are you doing here?" he asked pointedly, hoping to remind her of her intentions and get her out of his way.

"Oh, I'm was just on my way down to the Arithmancy section. We're doing this really interesting-" She faltered. "But you really don't want to listen to that." She pursed her lips and continued on her way, embarrassed by her ramblings. Snape stared at the spot she had vacated, blinked, then resumed his search in the book.

After a few more attempts he found a book that contained what he was looking for. He glanced around, found no one watching, then began to read the passage.  
_  
"The gift of Seeing is a rare one, and the gift of a true Seer even rarer. Even out of those truly blessed with this ability, some are restricted to infrequent minor visions, making real premonitions an uncommon experience._

"However, those not blessed have a last chance to encounter the future, although even more exceptional. The most powerful Seers are called Oracles, and reside in a place not of this Earth that is known as the Haven. These women are unrivalled in their capability, and are overseen by one Oracle, the most powerful of them all.

"There are very few accounts of meetings with Oracles. Of course we can't choose to see them, but they choose us. From the accounts we have gathered from over the ages, we have discovered useful information about this hidden world, and one detail remains the same throughout: The All-Seeing Eye.

"The All-Seeing Eye (see illustration v.iii below) is the symbol of the Oracle. The eye depicts their Sight, the three points of the triangle are said to represent the past, present and future, and the circle enclosing them shows the eternal cycle of life and magic. Anybody visited by an Oracle is left this symbol, which some say is to remind them of what was said, others to simply prove that it was true.

"Other reports suggest that, in extreme cases, some have been visited again. Though the Oracle never seems to reappear in person, 'visions' seem to come as dreams. It has been suggested that the recipient of these visits has a weakened natural barrier against the world of the Oracles, whilst others believe that they are reminders of what may happen. For others they show the future, of what they need to make happen.

"One thing is for sure: what they say should not be taken lightly, but should be followed carefully."

Snape turned to the next page to the diagram. It was exactly the same as his. He frowned and tried to remember… Yes, the necklace the Oracle wore, it was the eye. He had seen it before…

He replaced the book on the shelf and slowly left the library, his new found information slowly turning over in his head. At least now he was absolutely sure of what was happening. The one thing was _who_? Who could he possibly fall in love with?

So many questions ran through his head, not many of them finding answers, but there was one thing he was sure of: he was scared.

-

Even Snape's allowed to be scared sometime… I know I would be. ;) Thank you to everyone that reviewed! Look out next Wednesday for the next chapter.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." _How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Three **

"Professor, it's past my curfew. Can't I go yet?"

Snape looked up and pinned the girl with a deadly glare. "Excuse me?"

"I- I- My curfew… Bed…" the girl stammered. "It isn't safe," she finished feebly.

Snape slipped out from behind his desk and slowly approached her. The cauldrons she had been scrubbing towering above her, her sleeves pulled up to her elbows and her grime-smeared face all gave her a forlorn appearance that morphed to fear as Snape towered over her.

"Miss Robinson, the only thing you have to fear at the moment is getting another week's worth of detentions. If you get killed on the way back, then that will teach you not to steal from me again. Now clear all these up and get out of my sight."

Snape watched her as she put all the cauldrons away, eyeing her work critically.

"Same time tomorrow," he said as she began to go. She nodded and left at a pace that soon broke into a run. 

"What did she do?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.

"She attempted to steal from my private stores," he said. The look in his eyes told Hermione he knew about the boomslang skin.

"Attempted?"

"The index is very complex in there," he said, then added, "but you already knew that, didn't you?"

Hermione tried her best not to flinch, not to look away. Snape's lips curled into a small smile.

"Always the Gryffindor," he drawled and resumed his place at his desk. "She couldn't find what she was looking for and I caught her. Stupid girl."

Hermione looked puzzled. Was he calling her stupid for being caught? Snape saw her expression and smirked.

"You don't understand my reasoning, Miss Granger? If she had managed to find her way through my sorting system, get the ingredient and get out again before I noticed what happened, then she would deserve to have the ingredient."

Hermione said nothing, for she knew he was talking about her.

"Yet any ingredient that needs to be stolen from my stores must be for a complex potion. If it were to go wrong, wouldn't they deserve what happened? Wouldn't they deserve that punishment?" He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"That's… very Slytherin," she said eventually.

"And getting caught is very Gryffindor," he countered.

She opened her mouth but snapped it shut. Snape leaned forward.

"Let me guess. You were just about to tell me that you didn't get caught. No, you didn't, but I knew it was you. I knew what you stole. And when I saw the state of you in the hospital wing, I knew the potion had failed."

"It didn't," she said indignantly.

"Really? Why, what happened?"

She opened her mouth again, but soon thought better of it.

"My, we do learn to keep our mouths shut quickly, especially for a Gryffindor."

Snape saw Hermione snap with satisfaction.

"What do you have against Gryffindors?"

"Gryffindors are annoying, big-headed, arrogant show-offs who think the world revolves around them."

"You, of all people, cannot honestly think that everyone in a certain group of people is the same. Hating every single Gryffindor who walks through the castle gates just because of the house they are in? I thought at least you would have enough sense to see things aren't that simple!"

"True," he replied simply.

"True? Then why do you treat us like you do? God knows that the Slytherins are just as bad as some of us are."

"Miss Granger, would you like to tell me it is for your own good?" he began quietly. "Would you like me to tell you it is to toughen you up, whilst giving my Slytherins a life of luxury so they aren't prepared for the big wide world?"

"I- I'd like you to tell me the truth."

"The truth? I don't like most Gryffindors. Most people hate Slytherins; even Slytherins hate Slytherins. Everybody has a blind spot where you Gryffindors are concerned, whereas people immediately jump to conclusions that it is a Slytherins' fault, be it fighting in the corridors or the end of the world. Tell me, why shouldn't I give them a chance?"

Hermione felt the blush rising in her cheeks.

"For once the know-it-all is silent."

She couldn't hold back the scowl, and Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Really, Miss Granger. I thought you might have been less easy to bait." His lips curled into a smirk. "Obviously not."

"You- But-"

"What? You can't possibly imagine me baiting you on purpose?"

"Why?"

"Because it is fun?"

It was Hermione's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Because, Miss Granger, I'm sick of seeing this little, awkward, bumbling girl. You are a seventh year now and a young woman, not an insecure teen. Try to act like it."

"You want me to act more grown up? Says you with all your petty squabbles-"

Hermione clasped a hand over her mouth and stepped back, waiting for him to blow up. Instead, his lips formed a ghost of a smile.

"That's better. Never be afraid to speak your mind."

Hermione snorted.

"Or at least at appropriate times," he continued. "There are a lot of things going on in that head of yours and, perhaps, at least a small number of them may prove useful to us in the future."

The anger towards him was gone, overridden by curiosity. "Useful?"

"Why do you think I agreed to let you come behind? If you develop your mind then you may prove beneficial to us."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, absorbing the information. 

"Don't get further up on your high-horse, Miss Granger, it's a long way to fall," he said pointedly, then returned to his work.

Hermione packed away, being careful not to disturb Snape. She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and looked thoughtfully at his bent form, scribbling away.

"Goodnight, Professor," she said, but he merely blinked at her and turned back to his work. She sighed as she opened the door and left.

-

Severus sat quietly in the staffroom, watching the other members of staff in a new light. He had unintentionally been viewing every female teacher as potential lovers and (though he hated it) saviours.

Today he was alone, which meant that he could work. Oh, joy! He had his work spread about him, various classes' work ready for marking. He looked thoughtfully at the piece of parchment, then dipped his quill in the red ink and began to scribble across the bottom.

Your essay is so poor that if I take marks off for the 'pretty pictures' in the margins, your score will fall into minus numbers. If you insist on turning up for my lessons, stop making torturing you so easy.

"Losing your touch, Severus?"

He turned slowly to Minerva, his expression so dark it would have sent the bravest people running. But not her, unfortunately.

"Minerva. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

She ignored his sarcasm and peered over his shoulder. "I never thought I'd see the day when you wanted them to stop being easy targets."

"It takes the fun out of it."

"Ah." She smiled down at him and shifted the large pile of books in her arms. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Tell Dumbledore not to send his minions. If he wants answers, he should ask the questions himself."

He watched with satisfaction as she flustered, then said angrily, "From what I gather, Severus, he asked, but you wouldn't listen to his concern. We care! Why can't you understand that?"

Minerva McGonagall: possibly the only woman he ever liked, and most definitely the only woman he ever feared. She leaned forward over him, seething.

"Fine! You don't seem to register our concern, but-"

"Minerva! I know you care, but it is unnecessary, and I don't need you or Albus constantly pestering me and asking me stupid questions. How do you think I feel? Why do you think I don't sleep?" He lowered his eyes to avoid hers and continued quietly, hoping to diffuse her temper. "Emotions are running high, and things keep being blown out of proportion. I am fine, really."

Minerva eyed him sceptically. Eventually she nodded, but both professors knew the last statement was a lie. She turned to leave, but stopped and looked back over her shoulder.

"And I am not his minion."

"Just keep telling yourself that."

She scowled at him and left the room. Snape appreciated her self-defence, their bickering, her way of telling him that things were okay between them. He knew better than to get on her bad side, and the return to normality at least confirmed that she was still there, as always, if he should want to talk. It was strange that such a volatile relationship was really an awkward friendship beyond the petty arguments.

His attempt to return to his marking was cut short as the bell rang, signalling the end of the day. He sighed and rubbed his temples before putting his quill away and rearranging the piles of essays into manageable stacks.

Right on cue, the door burst open. In filed Flitwick, his high pitched voice above all the rest, moaning about how hard it is to get scorch marks out of a carpet. Hooch was fuming about the state of her broomsticks, and dropped down next to Vector, who appeared to be muttering silent curses under her breath. Throughout the staffroom, numerous trays of coffee (and, Severus expected, something a bit stronger) materialised, silencing the room. Contented sighs filled the air as the staff sank deeper down into their chairs, cradling their cups.

He was just about to get up when Poppy entered.

"Hello all, I was just- You're not leaving are you?" she asked Snape, then approached him critically. "Hmm... You look a bit off, don't you. Now, if you come up to the Hospital Wing I can give you something for the sleep-"

"Merlin, woman! Take your hands off me," he exclaimed, and batted her hands away. She placed her hands on hips and gave him her hardest glare.

"I am your nurse and I am supposed to look after you." She gave him a sweeping glance. "Someone has to as it's obvious you don't look after yourself."

A stifled giggle escaped one of the staff and Snape snapped his head around to glare. He looked from one to the other, until he saw Hooch.

"What?"

"Xiomara, I don't believe you have ever looked innocent from the moment you were conceived. Please don't start now; it makes you look awfully constipated."

More laughs came from the staff, and Hooch stood up, her hawkish eyes looking for a sparring match. Snape saw the warning signs, but the woman always wanted to get one over on him. Let her try, he thought. 

She walked up to him slowly, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Severus," she said quietly, her voice husky, mimicking a seductress' tones. "I've been having trouble with my broomsticks. Have you been having trouble with yours? Maybe I could help?"

His eyes widened in shock as her hand enclosed around the parts of his anatomy he never wanted to be in her grasp again. She leaned in a grinned up at him.

"Xi- Xiomara!" He swallowed, wondering how to get out of the situation without losing the ability to procreate.

"Xiomara, put him down!"

"But Headmaster, I'm having fun," she pouted. Snape sighed in relief as she relinquished her grasp and patted him on the stomach. "Who knew snakes had big balls?"

Various professors who didn't know better than not to drink when Hooch was on the warpath choked on their coffee. She returned to her seat, a few of the female teachers leaning in to whisper.

Snape gathered his things and marched out, utterly humiliated, but was stopped at the door by Dumbledore.

"Good to see you're having fun."

Snape scowled at him whilst pondering the best way to torture, murder and dispose of such a prominent figure. He merely growled at him though, then stalked off down the corridor. Laughter from the staffroom could be heard ringing out from the distance.

Thank the Gods he didn't blush.

By the time he reached his rooms, a total of one hundred and fifty four points had been deducted from the three other houses. He finally reached his quarters, the scene playing through his mind. He ought to have cursed that bloody woman straight into next week…

He dumped the parchments on the desk and closed his eyes and suppressed the day in his mind. He was bad at showing feelings and especially receiving them, but he was notoriously terrible when he was humiliated. 

The last time that happened was when an argument with Minerva became rather heated, resulting in him stood in Ollivander's explaining how he had managed to break his third wand.

Strangely enough, after the tartan hair incident, Minerva had deemed his punishment over, and their behind-the-scenes all-out-war was over. Thinking about it, she had always been there, lingering in the wings as the mother-type figure, merely waiting for him. Even back in his school days she would have welcomed him into his office, for house did not matter, even though he only realised that when he became her colleague. 

If only he could get along with some of the other members of staff. Whilst Minerva could be sharp and sarcastic, Xiomara's sense of humour was crude. Poppy was too concerned to find things funny most of the time, and Dumbledore… well, Dumbledore twinkled.

He sighed and buried his face in his hands, questions whirling through his mind.

How was he supposed to be forgiven when he couldn't even forgive himself? How was he supposed to love and be loved when he couldn't even remember the emotion without feeling dead inside?

He sighed heavily. How was he supposed to survive?

-

Thanks to everyone that reviewed! Hee, it makes me ridiculously happy. ;)


	4. Chapter Four

  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: "And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.  
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A Matter of Need

Chapter Four

Hermione banged into his classroom, nearly knocking the door off its hinges. She swept past Snape, ignoring him, and dumped her bag on the desk before ripping it open and pulling out her books and parchment. She put them on the table with more force than necessary and dropped her bag on the floor then kicked it under the bench out of the way.

"Bad day, Miss Granger?"

She snorted and continued to pull her ingredients out of the cupboard. She whipped around to take them back to her desk and bumped into Snape. He plucked the vials and bottles out of her hand and placed each one carefully on the desk.

"What are you doing?"

"Stopping you from blowing us up. I am not letting you brew a complex and dangerous potion whilst your concentration is clearly elsewhere."

"But-" She sighed and let her arms hang limply at her sides. "Sorry."

She dropped down on one of the stools. Snape eyed her before starting to place the ingredients and equipment back where they belonged. 

"I can't believe him!" she burst out eventually. Snape turned to look at her but she continued as if she was oblivious to his presence. "He could have said it was over, he could have talked to me, but no… I had to find out like that. If he had just said something instead of me finding him there with that slut practically having sex in the corridor. All the times he could have just came to me and talked things over… then we wouldn't be in this mess…"

"Who was it?"

"What?"

"The other woman?"

She couldn't help but look at him sharply, surprise mingled with disbelief, but she replied, "Sally-Ann Perks. A Hufflepuff in my year."

"Well, that must be exciting for our Mr Weasley," Snape said sarcastically.

"It's just- Wait? How did you know?"

"That you are – were – attached to Weasley? I have eyes, Miss Granger, ears, and an unfortunately unavoidable position in the staff meetings. Teachers gossip too," he said, traces of disgust in his voice. He closed the cupboard door and turned to face her. "McGonagall is blind where you and your friends are concerned, and sees fit to bore the rest of us with mindless babble about how absolutely brilliant you all are."

"Yet you must have been listening to know about us," Hermione countered.

"It's hard not to," Snape said dryly.

Hermione sighed and folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them. "I'm doomed to live a long and lonely life," came her muffled voice. Snape snorted. "Oh, I am sorry sir. That was rather tactless of me," she added acerbically.

Snape was caught off guard by her snipe at his personal life. What personal life? came that annoying voice from the back of his mind.

"Have you ever though that some of the boys in this school just can't handle you?"

Hermione looked up at him with bleary eyes. "What?"

"The position of intellectual supremacy is not an easy thing for the male ego to compete with. Perhaps you are just… too smart for them."

Hermione blinked. "Great."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Miss Granger."

"I forgot, that's your thing, isn't it?"

Snape frowned. "Follow me."

Uh oh. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

He shot her his patented 'look' and she scrambled to follow. She wasn't going to make his temper worse than it already was. He led her through his office and into... his private quarters.

"Sir?"

"Sit."

His tone left no room for argument so she perched on one of the large chairs at the side of the fire. She was curious, of course, but it felt wrong to look around at what was his. His private place.

Instead, she watched him by the stove, preparing two mugs of steaming liquid. He opened a tin and pulled out a dark blue slab. He placed one of the mugs down on the coffee table in front of her and next to it laid down what turned out to be Honeydukes' finest dark chocolate. After retrieving his own mug he took the chair opposite.

"I don't want to sound rude but… why?"

"Whilst it is one thing to have the brightest student in the school on the warpath after her ex-boyfriend, it is another to let her do so when she is fuelled by rampant hormones," he said blandly. "I'm confident you could come up with some… inventive curses by now, and I'm not entirely sure that Madam Pomfrey would want to cure him if she knew what he had done."

"Since when have you wanted to protect a Weasley?"

"I would love nothing better than you to blow those idiots to smithereens but there is a small matter of your conscience. Plus the paperwork's terrible."

Hermione snorted into her drink and laughed. Snape eyed her warily and took a sip of his drink, stunned by her reaction. 

"Are you okay?"

"What? Not used to making people laugh?" she replied eventually.

"Surprisingly, no."

Hermione grinned at him and brought her mug to her lips. As she swallowed the liquid she recognised an unfamiliar taste in the coffee.

"What have you put in it?"

"Specialised pain reliever. I've been told that menstrual cramps are horrible," he added with a faint smirk.

"You- But- I'm not sure whether to hex you or thank you," she said weakly.

"Both, probably, but I'd rather you thank me."

"And the chocolate?"

"Simply the best feel-good food in the known world. Apparently."

"Then you don't eat enough of it," she said grumpily.

"With all the lemon drops the Headmaster plies me with, I have no room for it."

Hermione found herself laughing again, not helped by the comical look of his bland expression. She hiccupped and the coffee splashed over the side of her cup and into her lap. She jumped up, somehow managing to keep the obscenities silent, and pulled her wet clothes away from her body.

"I- I think I'd better go."

Snape nodded and stood up. He couldn't help but watch as she unfastened her robes and began to slip them off. He determinedly studied the rug on the floor, but Hermione had seen him.

He moved over to the door and held it open for her and she passed, careful not to let her robes drip on him.

"Thank you, sir. Goodnight."

She began to walk down the corridor that led to the stairs but froze when she heard a voice call back.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger."

And then he was gone.

-

Snape departed from the corridor in unusual haste, trying desperately to get the images out of his mind. He shook his head, not that it worked, and grimaced into the night. He was so absorbed in thoughts that he was trying not to think about that he nearly ran into someone stood at the window.

"What do you think you are doing, walking around the school at this time of night?" he snapped.

Slowly, the person turned so he could see her upset expression, eyes distant and melancholy.

"Miss Granger."

"Professor."

"So, what are you doing?"

"Thinking of the most painful way to nail Ron's balls to a post. Not necessarily whilst he's attached," she replied blandly.

Snape was caught off guard by her frankness and, for a moment, was rendered speechless. Wrong, he though, not a flame of anguish, but female vindictiveness. God help Weasley. Or not.

"What has he done now?" Why the hell am I asking this? Merlin! I need to get back to my quarters before I get seen.

He began to walk and Hermione joined him, staring ahead in contemplation. She opened her mouth, froze, then shot Snape a sceptical sideways glance.

"Why do you ask? I mean, you don't really want to know, do you?"

"I must be tired. It would appear that my mouth spoke without engaging with my brain first," he said flatly.

"Thanks." They carried on walking, down the stairs, round a corner. "You know he won't talk to me now. He is such a child at times."

"Wonderful."

"Well you asked!"

"I didn't mean it."

Hermione glowered at him and they carried on walking, down the main staircase, down into the dungeons. "Well let him try to shag everything in the school, I don't care."

"It appears you do."

"You aren't making my fuming any easier," she said darkly.

"If it makes you feel any better, I just found Weasley and that other girl with their tonsils down each others' throats," he said, "and deducted fifty points."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, it makes me feel better. I also gave them both detention with Filch."

"Why thank you," she drawled sarcastically.

Snape paused to take down the wards and unlocked the door. He glanced at Hermione, frowned, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Are you coming in or not? Or will I have to listen to more teenage angst and stories of a broken heart?"

"I'm sorry if you are the only person I can talk to," she murmured as she slipped in and closed the door.

"Really?"

"What?"

"The only one you can talk to."

She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. "They're all so busy now, with everything. There's not enough time to talk that much," she said, her voice returning to the bossy tones of yesteryear.

"Why do you defend them?"

"They're my friends."

"And yet here you are."

"Well, Harry has so much on his plate right now, and he's spending time with Ginny. And it seems you know what Ron's doing," she added, and began to pace the room in front of the large bookshelf that lined a whole wall. Hermione could feel him stood close behind her, and continued without looking at him, "I'd feel stupid going to Dumbledore and McGonagall is so busy too. Besides, it's not like I've got much to talk about."

"You seem to be talking an awful lot now," he muttered.

"Yeah well… I'm just scared," she whispered. She was waiting for taunting, a caustic comment at least, but none came. She rotated so her back was no longer directed to Snape. "We are in a war. I know that I'm probably going to die and that my parents are targets. My best friend is the only thing standing between us and destruction, and we don't seem to be doing anything about it." She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed heavily. "Tell me something good. Tell me its all going to be okay."

"You already know the truth," he replied softly. He could see the desperation for comfort in her eyes, begging him for some reassurance.

"Then lie to me," she pleaded in a voice barely audible.

"We are definitely going to win the war. No one will be killed apart from the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. All those on the side of evil who survive will be sent to Azkaban and receive the punishment they deserve. We will all rejoice, together, then go on to live long full and happy lives."

Hermione looked away and shook her head, biting her bottom lip.

"It's not fair."

"No, it's not. One thing I do know, though," he said, coming closer and lifting her chin so she met his eyes, "is that you are a brave, intelligent young woman. Dumbledore has protection spells around your parents' house and work place. Despite what it may look like, the Order is working, but it is such a difficult and large operation and we cannot rush into any confrontations."

"But what if my parents aren't at home or work? And how long do we have before we have an inevitable confrontation? And how can you call me brave?" she added in a quieter voice.

"Bravery is courage in the face of adversity, is being in a situation, seeing the possibilities, and doing something even though the outcome may not be good for you to benefit someone else. Don't look away," he said and, once again, lifted her chin. She shied away so he held her there and said, "You have a right to be scared and you should be, but all you need to concentrate on now is continuing with your studies, keeping out of trouble and letting us do our jobs. Okay?"

She nodded. His hand remained cupping her cheek. She stepped forward, merely out of impulse rather than rational thought.

"No," he said, but only half-heartedly. "We can't."

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't be right." He noted the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

That was when he felt it. The spark. The jolt that ran through his body, the shock that surged through his skin.

She was the one.

Rendered speechless, he froze.

She pressed closer still. Now he could feel her body on his, closer, warmth, delicious scent, intoxicating.

Then, he didn't know how, he was kissing her and she was kissing back. Hair tangled in hands, hands roaming bodies.

Hermione groaned into the kiss, a kiss like never before. Hungry, passionate, fierce. She felt herself being backed up against the wall, the cool stone a stark contrast to his warm body. A small part of her brain was processing what was going on, a small part telling her this was wrong, but being overpowered by the part that was enjoying it.

Snape pulled back but didn't relinquish his hold around her. Her cheeks were red but her eyes danced with an intense flame, the most alive they had looked in a long time.

"I-"

She didn't know what to say. Didn't want to say anything.

Snape continued to look at her. What had he done? He was a professor at the school, and he had just taken advantage of that position. He stepped back and his arms fell to his side. He shook his head; no words would come out.

The Oracle said he would know, but that didn't matter. He had just kissed a student. Kissing students is wrong. Very wrong. Yet, according to the Oracle, right. He ran a hand through his hair. Why were the fates playing with him?

He glanced at Hermione, the person that was to love him and be loved in return. She looked petrified but he couldn't find any words to speak. Then her eyes became focused on a point over his shoulder and her jaw almost dropped.

Snape followed her gaze into the fire. The fire in which Dumbledore's head was floating.

"I think now would be a good time to see you in my office."

**-**

Sorry if the formatting is a bit wonky – I have to go and finish off college work, instead of faffing about… Thanks for reading and reviewing! See you next Wednesday. :)


	5. Chapter Five

  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need."_ How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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A Matter of Need

Chapter Five

Dumbledore's head disappeared from in the flames, yet the Floo connection was still open. Hermione pulled her horrified gaze from the green flames and turned to Severus. He looked ashamed and guilty, and wouldn't meet her eyes.

She shivered suddenly, the last of his heat on her dissipating. He pulled his cloak off the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders silently. When he had fastened the clasp, her hands came to rest on his.

"Don't…" he whispered. She wanted to say something, anything, yet all intelligent thoughts were out of the window and her throat was constricted with fear. "We'd better not keep the Headmaster waiting." His voice was quiet, but there was an undeniable quiver of dread.

He walked over to the fire and, despite the situation, remembered his manners. He watched as Hermione stepped into the fire first, then rubbed a hand over his face. He took a last look around his rooms – for what could possibly be the last time – and stepped into the flames.

In the office, Hermione was stood in front of the desk, wrapping the cloak around her as if it was a lifeline. Albus was behind the desk and – oh, God – Minerva was in one of the chairs, a half-drunk cup of tea abandoned on the desk.

He stood next to Hermione, at a distance that couldn't be called inappropriate, yet close enough for some comfort. She glanced at him, then returned her attention to the floor.

"I don't know what to say," Albus said quietly. The disappointment was clear in his voice. "How long has… this been going on?"

"About five minutes," Hermione said, still not looking at the Headmaster. Severus, however, could see that he looked doubtful.

"Honestly, Headmaster," Snape said. "It was a rash decision, one which I take full responsibility for."

"No!"

He looked at Hermione with such a fierce glare it would have sent most people running, but she continued to look at him with a sorrowful expression.

"No, it was me. I- I don't know what happened but… It was wrong. I was wrong."

"You expect us to believe that so easily?" Professor McGonagall said, obviously struggling to restrain herself. "From what Albus told me, it wasn't just impulse, and the action was mutual."

"Minerva," the Headmaster chided quietly, and she glared at him but sat back in her chair, her mouth compressed in a thin line.

"Honestly, Professor, that's the truth," Hermione whispered, eyes imploring as they met her gaze.

"Do you realise how serious this is, though? Any inappropriate relationships between a Professor and a student-"

"It isn't a relationship! It was just one kiss!" Hermione blurted out.

"Matters less serious than this have been dealt with by expulsion, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, "but I am not going to do that to you. Not today, anyway. I wouldn't like to have to see you go. Your mind is excellent and your exam results will be exemplary, not to mention that the castle ensures your safety in these troubled times, but I must emphasise that if anything like this happens again, the necessary actions will be taken."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"As for you, Severus-"

"He did nothing wrong, it wasn't his fault!"

Dumbledore studied Hermione for a moment. She was threatened with expulsion, yet was willing to defend this man until the end. A flush rose to her cheeks and she resumed her inspection of the carpet, and Dumbledore turned back to Snape.

"The same goes for you, I'm afraid. No matter how good a Potions master, or how much the Order needs you," he said carefully, "you are still a teacher at this school, and Miss Granger is still a pupil."

"Yes, sir."

He chanced a quick glance a Minerva, who was sat stone still, her knuckles white from clutching the arms of the chairs and her face pale. Her lips were thinner than he had ever seen them before, and she was refusing to look at either of them.

"Thank you for the second chance. I assure you that nothing like this will ever happen again."

Dumbledore nodded and Snape took it as a dismissal. He held the door open for Hermione and let her exit, but before he followed he turned to Dumbledore.

"Why did you want to see me in the first place, Headmaster?"

"I was going to invite you to supper with Minerva and I."

Afraid that he'd lost his carefully formed trust from the Headmaster and his Deputy, he averted his gaze and left. They made their way down the spiral staircase in silence. Before they stepped out into the corridor, though, Severus stepped in front, blocking the way.

"I'm sorry," he began, expression pained – he hadn't apologised sincerely for a long time. "I-"

"It's not your fault," she interjected quickly, and heaved a sigh.

"If you are looking for who is to blame, I think it was both of us," he said, his expression softening, but before Hermione could be sure, it was gone.

"I guess I should stop coming behind after school."

"And tell Potter and Weasley what? That you kissed the Potions master so you can't see him again?"

Hermione looked up at him and let out a small, startled laugh. "Well, when you put it that way…"

She bowed her head and sighed heavily, tears stinging at her eyes. Severus' automatic reaction was to reach out, tuck the stray tendril of hair blocking her vision behind her ear and properly study the girl that he was supposed to love. His hand mid-air, he realised what he was about to do. He withdrew his hand and stepped back quickly.

"This could be… awkward. We need to go on like nothing happened."

Hermione glanced up at Severus. "But it did."

He looked away. "I know." He sighed. "Look, you had better get back to your dormitory. I don't think it would be wise to come back down to the dungeons; I'll clean your things away."

Hermione nodded. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Miss Granger."

She stepped past and began to head back to Gryffindor Tower when she stopped abruptly.

"Your cloak."

Severus turned back to see her hugging the cloak to her body. "Keep it." He carried on to his dungeons, ignoring the urge to go back and comfort the girl. But that was what she was: a girl. A student, a child. And he was a professor. It wouldn't work. Couldn't.

Hermione watched the retreating back of the Potions Master, only just restraining herself from following him, despite what might happen. She slowly returned to Gryffindor Tower, but the castle seemed less of a home tonight. She gripped the cloak tighter, as she continued on through the shadowed halls.

She clambered through the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's questions, to find Harry and Ron still in the common room, Ron slumped in his chair, asleep.

"Hermione! Where have you been?" Harry asked, and Ron snorted awake.

"I was doing a potion and I didn't realise what time it was." Harry nodded and accepted the lie without question, and Hermione told them she was tired so she could escape to her bed. She changed in a stupor and climbed between the sheets.

So much had happened in one night. She had ended up kissing the Potions Professor, enjoying it, being caught by the Headmaster and being threatened with expulsion. The worst thing was, the kiss had been impulsive, not thought through, yet in the aftermath she had seen a side of Snape that she had never seen before, but wanted to investigate further.

Not that she'd ever get the chance now.

She rolled over and tried to get to sleep, but thoughts of Snape against her, kissing her, and the dread of her Transfiguration and Potions lessons the next day kept invading her mind.

Down in the dungeons, the object of her thoughts had returned to his quarters. When Severus entered his rooms he was thankful to see them again, yet a strange sadness at being alone. The small table that they had ran into was upturned and he bent to pick it up. The wall she had been up against made the memory return, made him wish she was there again. Her robes were draped over the chair and he picked them up, her unmistakable scent surrounding him. He threw it down again in self-disgust.

Never in all his time as a teacher had he allowed himself to think about his students in any way other than what was necessary. Now… Now it was necessary. She was the one. She was the one that was going to save him. But not now.

-

For the first time she could remember, Hermione desperately wanted to escape Transfiguration. All lesson, McGonagall had been acting cold towards her. Not enough to raise suspicion from the others, but enough to show her that she thought she had done wrong.

McGonagall walked between the rows, inspecting their work. She paused to comment on various transformations, but not once in the entire lesson had she spoken to Hermione.

"Keep it up. Weasley, concentrate. Very good Potter. That's better," the Professor said, then brushed past Hermione and onto Neville's table. "Good try, Longbottom."

Harry leant towards Hermione.

"What's up with her?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, but her voice was strained.

"Well, she's hardly being nice today, especially to you," Harry said quietly, careful not to attract McGonagall's attention.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry."

"Miss Granger!" McGonagall called across the classroom. "Kindly stop talking and get back to work."

Harry shot Hermione a pointed glance and turned back to the lizard he was transfiguring. Hermione went back to work too, and, thankfully, it was only a few minutes later when the bell went.

Chairs scraped and people bustled out of the room as others went round to collect the various animals to return them to their cages. Harry, Ron and Hermione were packing their books away when Ron groaned.

"What have we got next, and please don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me."

"Sorry mate," Harry said, laughing. "We've got Potions."

They turned to leave and Hermione could feel McGonagall's cold gaze on her all the way out of the door. She sighed and began to walk down the corridor with Harry, Ron on his other side, safely out of the way of Hermione's venomous looks.

It's only potions. Act like nothing has happened, because, well, it hasn't. But it has, replied the treacherous part of her mind. Don't pretend you didn't feel it.

"Oh, shut up," she snapped quietly.

Harry turned to her. "What?"

"Oh, er, nothing." She frowned and kneaded her forehead with her hand. This was going to be a long lesson.

Harry shot her a questioning look, but they continued to make their way to the lesson and sat in silence, waiting for Snape to begin. He set them advanced work, even by Hermione's standards, and left them to it. Harry and Ron complained under their breath, but Hermione didn't want to dedicate any more of her mind to thinking about him. She scanned the ingredient list and began to prepare the potion.

Snape sat at his desk. He would stalk later. Malfoy, barely competent, but not about to blow up his classroom. Crabbe and Goyle, well, the less said about them the better. Potter and his sidekick, somehow scraping by with a little help from Hermione. And Hermione… When had he started calling her by her first name? Working on her own, dextrous hands swiftly chopping the ingredients, mind carefully calculating the next move.

Her mind was a beautiful thing, but aesthetically she was merely average. Her hair was too bushy and her lips were cracked by the winter air. But that didn't stop him from watching. Her lips were full, and large eyes watched the bubbling concoction under long lashes…

Bloody hell, when have I ever cared about appearances? When have I ever cared? I can't start caring now; it isn't as if I can act on this… necessity? What else can I call it? Student, teacher. Adult, child. It doesn't matter anyway… we all die eventually, and perhaps my release will come sooner rather than later.

Hermione glanced up and faltered. He blinked at her then his eyes widened almost imperceptibly in realisation. He bowed his head in apology and decided it would now be a good time to stalk.

She took in a deep breath and tried to focus on her work once again. This was not helped by Snape standing over her, watching.

"See me after class," he said quietly. She looked up and raised an eyebrow but he turned and left.

At the end of the lesson, Hermione packed away her equipment and, unlike everyone else, resumed her seat. Harry shot her a look and she nodded to Snape and shrugged. He frowned, but said nothing, and left with the rest of the class.

Snape sat down at his desk in silence. He stayed like that for a moment or so before he spoke.

"I apologise for distracting you."

"Pardon?" she said, wondering if she had heard correctly.

"I didn't mean to watch you, but I was lost in thought. Not the best place to be when preparing volatile potions," he added with a frown.

Hermione rose and moved to the seat just in front of him. "I'm sorry for getting you into trouble. Especially if McGonagall is treating you worse than she is me."

"Whilst the Dark Lord fears Dumbledore, the rest of us fear Minerva," he said darkly.

"That bad?"

"Dumbledore is often called the most powerful wizard in the world, yet her power rivals his. The difference between them is that she is… more vindictive, creative." He studied her shocked face, and briefly wondered why he was telling her this. "The Headmaster has silent fury, she chooses to be more vocal about it. To this day I am astounded that she did not curse Dolores Umbridge into next year. Only Albus' orders held her back."

"So I should be scared?" Hermione said glumly.

"No, I should be. She will calm down… eventually." He thought for a moment before saying what he had planned to. "You may continue with you project after the holidays if you wish. If you don't, then I will understand."

"No! I want to continue."

"Well," he said, voice returning to normal, more business like. "We will stay in the classroom, do nothing to provoke Minerva – as you so eloquently put it – nailing my balls to a post, and return to total professionalism."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me carry on."

"The sessions will restart when you come back after the holidays."

There was finality in his tone and she stood up. She fiddled with her robes; she wanted to say something but she couldn't vocalise her thoughts. She nodded instead and collected her bag.

"Have a nice Christmas, Professor," she said, her voice subdued in her frustration.

"You too," he replied quietly.

She smiled at him then left.

-  
**Ediblemongoose**: the entire story is finished and typed, ready to be tweaked and uploaded on a Wednesday morning. Don't worry!  
**Tigerfanfrv**: Hermione was working on her own projects, (check first chapter) but since there's so many stories out there already focussing on the relationship that comes from working together, I bypassed the initial phases of awkwardness, to where they are more comfortable, almost (!) friendly. It works with the story, and lets me get to the juicy part of the plot!

Slight hitch: my internet runs out on Friday. I hope to update next week, but if I can't then you at least know why. Sorry. :(

Thank you, everyone, for reviewing!


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." _How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.  
**  
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A Matter of Need

Chapter Six

"Good morning, my child."

Hermione span around and nearly bumped into a smiling woman in a white dress.

"Careful," she said, laughing gently. "How are you?"

"I'd be better if I knew where I was," Hermione said warily. It felt a little too real to be a dream.

The woman linked her arm and began to lead her down the cobbled road, the stones pleasantly cool under her bare feet, and soft where the fallen petals were thick.

"Just as blunt as the last," the woman said with a smile. "Very well, this is the Haven, home of the Oracles."

Hermione stopped dead. "Oracles."

"Ah, you were not born into the world of magic. Yes, these things can be a little hard for you to understand."

"It would help if you tried to explain," Hermione said, irritated, and partly scared.

The Oracle chuckled again. "So impatient to learn. And yet you stormed out of your Divination lesson." She smiled as Hermione bristled. "There are true Seers, child, and this is their home. Those on Earth See, but not to the extent that we do."

"Then why don't you tell me when you are going to explain why I am here?" Hermione muttered.

"Poor dear. Your life is uneasy at the moment and it is affecting you in your sleep. It is no wonder you don't wake up invigorated and refreshed. Try to clear your mind before you go to bed; it will help, I promise." The Oracle studied her, then continued, "As for why you are here… You are in a war and you know that. I can see that you feel resigned to die, but your friends and family…"

Hermione pulled away and stepped back, eyes narrowed. "What gives you the right-"

"Listen to me, child, and the fate that befalls those around you will be that which you want. If you wish to ignore my warnings, then I will send you home now. Or would you like me to continue?"

Hermione swallowed. "Continue."

"I know you are scared," she said softly, "but I am trying to make things better for your future. I am trying to give you a future."

"What does that mean?" Hermione said, an undeniable tremor in her voice.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this. It is a lot for a mere child to have to deal with – we try to never visit people so young – but when you return to the castle, you will no longer be a child. That strong head of yours will keep you in good stead, but look for help in unusual places and, even though these words are meant for you and you only, don't be afraid to ask for it."

"You're sorry to have to tell me what?"

"Dark magic is growing in strength, and soon its forces will try to combat Good. Love is the strongest power and magic of them all, but it is only as strong as the vessel it is conjured in."

Hermione gave the woman a bland stare and raised an eyebrow.

"You must be the vessel. Your strength and magical ability is greater than you imagine. Imagine how strong you could be with love. Pure, unadulterated, absolute love."

"I- I don't see what this has to do-"

The Oracle held up a hand to stop her. "You will, you will," she said sadly and shook her head. "There is a man – you've know him for a while – that you must love. You like him already, but develop that more," she said, her voice more urgent.

"A man that I need to love?" Hermione said with a nervous laugh.

"Yes."

"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"He needs to be loved, to be saved."

"From what?"

"From many things," the Oracle replied evenly. "Evil, torment, but mainly himself."

"Why me, then?" Hermione asked weakly.

"Because you are the only one that can. Because you are the only one that he will let save him."

Tears glistened in Hermione's eyes as she struggled for words, to make a coherent sentence amidst the chaos of her mind.

"How- How can I love someone because I am told to?" she asked in desperation.

"Don't be afraid to be yourself, but be strong. Stand up for yourself and for your friends. But most of all, do not be afraid of love." She stepped closer and patted her on the shoulder.

"But what if I don't – can't – love him? What then?"

"Then… Then you, your partner, your friends and your family, those people around you and those you know nothing of… they will be no longer."

"They- They will all die?" Hermione choked.

"It is a chain reaction. One event triggers another, stops another from happening, all accumulating in disaster. I have seen up to a point, but after that there are many paths leading to different places. I hope for your – and all those others' – sakes that you find yourself and go down the right one."

Hermione brought her hands to her face a shook her head wildly.

"How can you tell me that? How?" she cried.

The Oracle bit her lip, ashamed. "Would you rather I didn't tell you? I couldn't just leave you alone and let all those lives be destroyed. The weight of this is crushing, immeasurable, but I hope you believe me when I say that you are the best for this destiny, the bravest and most capable. All I hope now is that you heed this warning and do as I say."

Hermione nodded and wiped away a terrified tear.

"Who? Who is it I'm supposed to love?"

"You will know."

"How?" Hermione called out as everything around her began to fade.

"You will know," the Oracle repeated.

Then she disappeared and the world faded into darkness.

Hermione jolted awake and pushed the covers away. Stumbling out of bed, she covered her mouth with her hand and dashed to the bathroom. The contents of her stomach were emptied and she slid to the floor, clutching her side. She took deep breath, trying to regulate her panting.  
_  
"It's more a… a matter of need … You are the only one that he will let save him."_

The words echoed through her head, reverberating around her conscience. She didn't know much about Divination, nor did she care about it, but she was willing to bet that she had just visited the Haven of the Oracles. The sense of reality was overwhelming.

She scrambled up as realisation that it was a school day hit her and hurried into the dormitory. She hastily began to get dressed but froze as she felt something against her skin.

Back in the bathroom she studied her reflection. Paler than normal and still shaky, but around her neck hung the item that held her attention. A pendant dangled on a fine chain, glinting ominously in the light. She lifted it so she could see the detail: an eye in a triangle, with that in a circle.

She ran her thumb along the chain, searching for the clasp to undo it, but none was found. She frowned, unable to shake the unsettled feeling that had taken up residence within her. She buttoned up her shirt to cover the eye, but _she _knew it was there.

After gathering her things she darted out of the almost empty common room and down into the great hall. Students were already leaving but she hurried over to the Gryffindor table, still fastening and straightening her robes up.

"You okay, Hermione?" Ginny asked, eyeing her dishevelled form.

"I'm- I'm fine. I just overslept."

Ginny nodded but didn't look too convinced. Hermione sat down next to Harry who pushed a large mug of steaming coffee her way.

"Here, you look as if you need it."

"Thanks, Harry, really," she said sarcastically, and Harry grinned at her.

Luna Lovegood approached the table and Ginny left with her, then Ron said something about an unfinished Transfiguration essay and dragged Harry off to help him. Hermione shook her head after them, wondering how long Ron was going to avoid her for, but stayed where she was. The tables were nearly empty now, but she carried on sipping at her drink, lost in thought.

The Oracle had commented on the last person, presumably the person she was to 'save'. The only person Hermione could think of was Harry. He was the only one that had a chance against Voldemort and things were pretty tense, but he had Ginny. Plus, she didn't think he had been visited; he hadn't acted as oddly as she had recently.

"What am I supposed to do," she murmured to her cup.

"About what, Miss Granger?"

Hermione jumped and looked up. Professor McGonagall had walked over whilst the rest of the last few professors left.

She opened her mouth to answer but found she couldn't say anything. She placed her mug on the table and sighed.

"I- I had this dream, only I don't think it was a dream. She said not to tell anyone about it but- Oh, I don't know."

"She?" McGonagall pressed, taking a seat opposite her. Hermione was aware that Dumbledore and Snape were still at the staff table, probably listening.

She bowed her head and answered weakly, "The Oracle."

McGonagall was silent and Hermione began to feel embarrassed.

"It was just a stupid dream. It means nothing-"

"It does." The professor leaned closer and asked, "What did she say?"

"Now, now, Minerva." Dumbledore had joined them and shot a reprimanding glance at McGonagall. "Miss Granger, what she told you is for you. I hope that the news wasn't too bad," he added with a searching look.

"So she is real? It was real?"

"Very real. Now you need to follow the advice that she gave you."

"There wasn't a whole lot of advice. I don't know how- It isn't as easy as she made it sound."

"It never is," Dumbledore said quietly and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Finish the rest of your drink and go back to bed."

"No, I want to go to my lessons. I'll be fine."

The professors smiled at that and McGonagall rose from the bench. Dumbledore nodded at Hermione and they turned and walked away. As soon as they were far enough away not to be heard, they were deep in conversation, but the thing Hermione noticed was Snape hovering at the door having listened to their conversation. He looked deep in thought, too, but through his emotionless mask, she could see he was worried and anxious about something.

Hermione drained her drink and picked up her bag. She was already late for her lesson.

At dinner she went to the library, intent on finding some more information. She prowled the rows, eventually deciding to bury her loathing and head towards the Divination section. She had gone through numerous books when she pulled out a likely looking volume. She scanned the contents then began to read, unbeknown to her, the same section Snape had read before her.

She studied the picture and ran a finger around the eye. The part of the text warning her about another visitation scared her, but she decided to concentrate on the more pressing issue: who was she supposed to love?

Everything seemed unfair to her, an ultimatum she couldn't adhere to. Love him or die. How do you love someone because you are told to? _That, I guess, I'll just have to find out._

The bell rang, startling her, and reminding her about the next lesson. Madam Pince glared at her as she ran out of the library and down numerous stairs and corridors and into her Transfiguration lesson. Everyone else was sat down and turned round to look at her.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor."

"Where have you been? You're five minutes late."

"I've been in the library."

McGonagall gave her a searching look, obviously guessing what she had been looking for, and nodded.

"Five points off for your tardiness. Sit down," she said, but without the usual bite.

Hermione took her place and could tell Harry was waiting to question her, but McGonagall resumed her lecture.

They began writing up their notes and McGonagall began to walk the rows, asking for demonstrations and checking their work. She was over in the corner with Malfoy when Harry leant closer.

"Why were you late."

"Library," she muttered, frowning at her parchment.

"Doing?"

"Looking for a book," she replied with a raised eyebrow, daring him to question more.

"You missed dinner," he said instead.

"Really?" Hermione said sarcastically.

Harry sighed, admitting defeat, and returned to his work. McGonagall came over and worked along their row.  
_  
When transfiguring a mammal it is important to remember to… to… _

Hermione rubbed her face and sighed heavily, staring at but not seeing the parchment in front of her.

"Is everything okay, Miss Granger?" McGonagall said softly and Hermione looked up at her.

"Headache."

"You look preoccupied," McGonagall said and raised and eyebrow.

"Yeah, you could say that," Hermione almost whispered.

"I hope you sort whatever it is out soon."

"I'm not sure about that," Hermione muttered.

Harry had been watching the exchange and guessed there was a hidden meaning, and looked at McGonagall who challenged his glare. She had moved onto Ron when Hermione dropped her quill.

The necklace, she had seen the design before around Snape's neck when they had kissed. Snape had seemed strange when he heard of her dream with the Oracle. He had been in the Divination section reading a similar book to that she had read.

She jumped up from her chair and said to the professor, "I- I need to go."

She darted out of the door, most of the class staring after her.

"Everyone, pack up," McGonagall ordered. "The bell is about to go soon. When everything is back where it belongs you may go."

She crossed to the door and left. If anyone had looked out after her, all they would have seen was a tabby cat streaking down the corridor in quick pursuit of Hermione.

Down in the dungeons, Hermione stood outside Snape's classroom, practically hopping from one foot to the other. The room was almost silent so he didn't have a lesson, but she could hear the scratching of a rapidly moving quill.

Taking a deep, resigned breath, she pushed open the door and walked up to Snape.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing here?" he barked.

She ignored his shout and stood next to him, before reaching out to begin unfastening his robes. He grabbed her wrists and pushed her away, aghast.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed

"It's you, isn't it?" she said, voice low, terrified.

He released her hands and looked at her, confused.

"What-"

"You-" Her voice trembled and her breath caught. With shaking fingers she undid her robes, then the top of her shirt.

"Miss Granger, stop this now. What do you think you are playing-"

She held the amulet up so he could see it clearly. She watched as he closed his eyes for a second and lowered his head.

"You…" she repeated, shaking her head. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes but she didn't seem to notice. She stood, frozen, staring at the man in front of her. The man who was supposed to stop her friends and family from dying. The man who she was supposed to love.

The door creaked slightly and they both turned to see a cat transform into the Transfiguration professor.

"You were warned and you chose not to listen," she said quietly, her voice trembling in anger. "Get to the Headmaster's office, now!"

Hermione and Snape shared a final look, shock mixed with horror and fear. How were they supposed to explain this? After all, 'this' was supposed to be a secret.

Thank you everyone that has been reading, especially to those that have reviewed! ;)

See you all next Wednesday, where certain truths come to light, and Hermione and Severus try to accept the task they've been given…

Sorry for any formatting problems...


	7. Chapter Seven

  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing… 

Summary:_ "And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." _How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Seven**

Dumbledore glanced up from his writing as Minerva marched in.

"Hello, my dear. What can I do…" He trailed off as his eyes travelled from his Deputy's angry face to Severus and Hermione. "What now?" he asked darkly, hoping for an explanation that would not result in either of them having to leave.

"She ran out of my class so I followed her. Down to the dungeon where she proceeded to try to undress him."

Dumbledore, usually a master of his own emotions, showed the shock on his face and turned to Snape for answers.

"Severus?

"It isn't like she makes it sound."

"No?" she cried. "Then please explain because I hope to God that this wasn't what it seemed."

He took a deep breath, knowing that getting angry would only make matters even worse than they already were.

"She wasn't undressing me, Minerva. I believe she was looking for this." He pulled out the amulet to show them. To his amazement it had undone and fell into his hand. He looked at it, puzzled, until Hermione held out hers too. "I guess now we've found each other it has no need to be a constant reminder," he said quietly.

"I don't understand," Minerva said, looking between them both.

"We- We were both visited by Oracles. This reminds us of what they told us. Until now we haven't been able to get them off."

"Severus, why didn't you tell me?"

"Albus, you know there was no point. No matter how much you pester me, you know I can't tell you what I was told."

"Why not?" Hermione asked. "Surely with more people to help, the… the task set would be easier to complete."

"Your reasoning is logical," Dumbledore began, "but the more people you tell, the more differences there are between our reality and the one the Oracle saw. You need to stick to the rules in order to make what you do count."

Hermione nodded slowly and Dumbledore looked at them thoughtfully.

"The task… You are connected?"

Snape laughed humourlessly. "You could say that," he said darkly.

Dumbledore frowned at his tone.

"It doesn't matter, Headmaster. You can rest assured that I will not submit your star pupil to anything inappropriate. This ends here."

"To hell it does!" Hermione burst out before she could even think about what she was saying, her fear and anger fuelling her, but Snape cut across her.

"Miss Granger-"

"No!"

"What, you are willing to risk yourself… for me?" he asked mockingly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and countered quietly, "Not just you."

Snape looked taken aback. "You?"

She shook her head slightly. "Not just me."

Snape glanced at Dumbledore and Minerva and back. Hermione nodded.

"Plus more."

"This…" Snape swallowed and shook his head. "We need to discuss this further," he eventually said. He turned to leave.

"Severus…"

"Headmaster, Minerva, I'm sorry but neither I nor Miss Granger can tell you what was told or what we- ah- need to do." He looked imploringly at Albus. "All I can say is that it is in all your best interests if you do not interfere."

Hermione snorted, feeling that was something of an understatement. She smiled apologetically at the two older professors before following Snape out.

When the door clicked shut Minerva whirled around to face Dumbledore.

"Albus-"

"No, Minerva."

"But-"

"No. All we can do now is leave them to sort this out on their own. At least they have each other in this."

Minerva sighed and bit her lip.

"Haven't you got any idea what they have to do?"

"None at all, but it appears they need each other." He stood up and pulled her into his embrace. "I know you worry about them both, but you cannot sort everything out. I guess all we can do now is wait and show that we support them."

Minerva nodded and whispered, "I just hope everything is going to be alright."

xxx

Hermione stood awkwardly just inside Snape's room at the door. Snape was stalking round, swearing under his breath. He threw his robes over the chair by the fire and stopped to study the All Seeing Eye. Hermione flinched as he threw it at the wall, where it merely fell to the floor, unharmed, glinting tauntingly in the firelight.

"Sir?"

He looked at her and she averted her eyes, scared he was going to blow up at her.

"Who- What did she say to you?"

"That I am to-" She licked her lips and swallowed, then continued timidly, "- I am to love someone – you – or… or my friends, family, and people I don't even know will die."

Snape's head snapped up.

"Why? Why so many people?"

"I don't know… I don't know." Hermione looked to the heavens for support and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks.

"Silly girl, what good will weeping do you?"

"Well, Professor, I've just found out that me, you, my friends and my family will all die unless I love you. So please forgive me for being a little bit scared," she replied, anger piercing the fear and making her tones shrill.

Snape opened his mouth to reply with an acerbic comment, but his shoulders slouched and he lost his enraged air. He nodded in understanding and dropped onto the sofa where he cradled his head in his hands and tried to calm down. He felt the cushions shift under additional weight as Hermione sat beside him.

"Look, getting angry or feeling sorry for ourselves is not going to help us. We need to focus and…"

"And love each other," he finished darkly. He looked sideways and studied her. "No one should have to have this on their shoulders, especially not a child."

"That's just what she said. She also said I'm not a child anymore."

"Do you not feel like child now?"

"I haven't felt like a child in a long time," she admitted softly. Snape raised his eyebrow slightly but chose not to comment. "You seemed surprised that it wasn't just you," she added.

"I was. I should have known things weren't going to be simple."

Hermione's gaze softened. "You were willing let yourself die, rather than let someone love you."

He looked away at her observation. She was right.

"But now I'm not the only one at risk," he said, the bite back in his tone. "Do not worry, I am not about to let you die as you no doubt think I will."

"I don't think that."

"Well, you're probably the first."

"You think really highly of yourself, don't you," she commented sarcastically.

"You have no right to talk of such things," Snape hissed at her as if she was a small child.

"Or perhaps I have now."

Hermione could see him trying to control his anger, not that she was doing a good job of that herself. Obviously he was not used to having his life and mind probed by anyone, especially not his student.

"Miss Granger," he said eventually, low and dangerous. "It is not your place to question me, and I am sure that if I told you, you would not like the answers."

"God, you're making it really easy to love you," she cried, standing up. "What chance have I got to love you if the only side I see is a miserable, reclusive, sarcastic man? I'm only trying to see you, not this façade you seem to present to the world."

Snape looked as if he had been slapped.

"Get out of my rooms now."

"Giving up already?"

"Out!" Snape yelled as he rose from the sofa.

Hermione glared up at him, but she could do nothing but leave. They were his rooms she was stood in, and his privacy and mind she had invaded.

"I'm sorry, _Professor_," she said, and turned on her heel and left.

As the door slammed shut, Snape dropped back down onto his seat and barely restrained himself from smashing something.

_Of all the bloody idiotic things I had to do, I had to yell at her. The girl is scared, and rightly so. No one should have this on their conscience. Merlin! I don't know if this is even possible, but it seems it's not only for my or her sake, but everyone else's. If only we knew exactly why we have to – I can't even think it! – why we have to love each other, then it would help. It looks like we'll have to find out._

He got to his feet and headed towards his bedroom when he saw the pendant on the floor. After a moment of consideration, he went over and picked it up. Retreating to his desk, he withdrew a scrap piece of parchment out of a pile and pulled out a quill.

_"Miss Granger,_

_Due to the current status of your project, you have permission to use the classroom until and during – if you are staying – the Christmas holidays._

_Professor S. Snape."_

When Hermione received the letter, she couldn't help but snort at the wording, as the "current status" of their project wasn't looking good. Though, by the looks of it, she had gained one step closer to him judging by his acknowledgement of their situation.

Hermione sighed heavily as she folded the parchment and tucked it in her pocket.

xxx

The steady thud as the knife cut through the root and the scratching of Snape's quill were the only sounds to fill the classroom. He paused for ink and chanced a subtle glance at Hermione. Her hair was obstructing her face but her bowed head and stance at her desk told him that she was engrossed with her work.

She picked up a handful of the chopped roots and threw them into the cauldron. It hissed and she nodded to herself. She went to pick up another ingredient and noticed Snape watching her. She smiled slightly but shot him an inquiring look.

"Is everything okay, Professor?" It was asked under the pretence of questioning her work, but the look in her eyes confirmed it was directed at him.

"Everything is fine, Miss Granger."

She held his gaze for a few more seconds then resumed her work, every so often looking up to see him scribbling away. The night continued in this way until a crack sounded through the classroom, marking the appearance of a house elf. It was stood by Snape's desk in the customary Hogwarts' tea towel, but with another emblem of a snake entwined round an ornate 'S'.

"Sir, your drink."

Snape glanced up and nodded at the elf, who placed the steaming mug on his desk. When it caught sight of Hermione it froze.

"Oh, Miss! Do you want a drink, Miss?"

Hermione was shocked to be addressed by what appeared to be Snape's own house elf, and looked from it to Snape and back again.

"Do you want a drink or not?" Snape asked shortly. Hermione nodded and the elf soon reappeared with another mug.

She savoured the smell of the hot chocolate as she breathed it in deeply and sat down, her fingers around the mug, drawing its warmth. She took a sip at the scalding liquid, glancing over the rim at her professor. He was lost in his thoughts and Hermione wasn't going to interrupt them.

By the time Hermione had finished her drink, Snape had long since drunk his, but neither of them had spoken. She set the mug down with a small tap that made Snape look up from his writing. He eyed her for a moment before bowing his head and resuming his scribbling.

Hermione tried to clear up as quietly as she could. When she finished, she took a sample of the potion, ladled it into a glass jar and labelled it carefully. She placed it neatly on the shelf with her other work, all the while aware that Snape was watching. She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, then picked up her armful of books.

"Sir?" she asked, for he was still watching her. He frowned and placed his quill on the desk and pinched the bridged of his nose.

"I think it would be a good idea for us to talk," he said, somewhat reluctantly.

Hermione followed his lead into his quarters and he waved his hand for her to sit down. He summoned two more mugs and sat down opposite her. He made no move to talk, so Hermione picked up her mug and sipped at it, although the liquid was near blistering.

"I'm guessing you have coffee."

Snape looked at her with a quizzical expression. "What?"

She indicated her drink. "I don't peg you as a hot chocolate man."

Snape gave her a disdainful look as if she was a particularly idiotic child. "Miss Granger, I do not make small talk. Do not think I am going to change that for you."

"Say something, then, rather than nothing. I thought you wanted to talk."

He eyed her and said curtly, "I apologise that having this conversation with a student his rather unnerving."

Hermione wondered how he could put so much bite into his tone, yet still appear civil.

"No, I'm sorry, it's just that this whole thing still doesn't seem real. I don't understand what is happening or why, and that… well, I'm sure you can imagine that is something I hate a great deal," she finished with a wry smile. "I guess that's something we'll just have to wait and see."

"I do not pretend to know anything about Divination, which I doubt will surprise you, but there has been a number of reports over the years of encounters with Oracles such as this, and in each case the task, whatever it may have been, was of great importance."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, slightly fearful. "They must have done something right if we're still here, living normally?"

"I would assume they were successful, at least to some extent, but now what should concern us most is what we must do."

Hermione swallowed and met his eye contact briefly, before averting her gaze to her drink. "Love."

Snape was silent for some time, and Hermione dared not move. At one point she would never have believed that she would work under him in private projects, and have something of the beginnings of a tentative friendship, never mind be in a situation where they were to love. It was a challenge, picturing herself with Snape as a couple, in love, but if there was one thing Hermione Granger didn't back down from, it was a challenge.

"Do you trust me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione started and looked up and met his intense gaze. "What? Yes, of course," she stammered, bewildered.

"Then that makes things slightly easier," he said quietly. "Now, the Christmas holidays start at the end of this week."

"I'm staying here," she anticipated, and Snape nodded.

"Then you are welcome to use the laboratory over the holidays, and we should probably use the opportunity to get to know each other."

Hermione had never seen Snape so… defeated or exhausted, and so resigned. Not that he really had a choice.

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me, Miss Granger, I haven't done anything not required."

"If we are going to do this, don't you think you can call me Hermione?"

"Fine, _Hermione_," he said, then quirked an eyebrow at her expectant look.

She smile to herself, thinking she should know better than to expect an invitation to use his given name. Instead, she placed her mug on the table and stood up before slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Snape stood also and held the door open for her as she left, and it was when she was a few paces away that he spoke.

"Goodnight… Hermione."

In the dark he could just see the large grin that worked its way across her features as she turned back to face him.

"Goodnight, sir."

xxx

Apologies for the delay. Between a hectic pass couple of weeks, the fact that I wasn't previously pleased enough with the chapter, and that my dad blew up the computer and wiped all the settings off the modem, I haven't been able to update…

But here's the chapter, and the next chapter should be up next Wednesday. :)

Thank you for all your reviews and your patience!


	8. Chapter Eight

  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing… 

Summary: "And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

**.  
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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Eight**

"Thank God," Snape muttered as the door closed after the last students of the year escaped from his class. As the door edged open again he prepared to shout, but his face softened slightly when Hermione entered.

"I've never looked forward to the holidays so much in my life," she sighed, closing the door and walking up to him. She sat down on the chair in front of his desk and watched him idly as he finished packing up various bundles of essays and preparatory work.

"I'm surprised Potter and Weasley haven't said anything about the excess time you've spent in the dungeons lately," Snape said, frowning slightly. Hermione waved a hand airily.

"They just think I'm doing my extra potions project. I don't suppose they really care what I'm doing, though," she added morosely. "Besides, Ron won't question me, as he knows it'll only result in him having to answer some awkward question himself."

"For once their self-centredness has paid off," he pointed out as he made his way to his rooms. "As long as their attention on you is minimal, then you will be safe."

"I know, but sometimes it'd be nice to know they care."

He dropped his burden on his table and turned to face her.

"Of course they care. They're just idiots."

Hermione merely shook her head in response. She threw her Hogwarts robes over the back of the chair before sinking into the seat by the fire she seemed to have claimed as her own. She took the proffered drink and sipped at it thoughtfully.

"Hasn't Malfoy said anything?"

"No, thankfully." Snape had a swig of his drink before continuing, "We need to make sure he doesn't become suspicious, as he will alert his father, who in turn will tell the Dark Lord. Draco has been told to keep an eye on Potter, and notify his father of anything that may be of importance. No doubt he will now know that you have fallen out," he said, and added, "you can use that as your excuse for shrouding yourself with work."

Hermione nodded but remained silent, and they sat quietly for some time, until she eventually looked up and met Severus' eyes.

"How- How can a person love someone because they are told to?"

"You can't," he replied shortly. "I hope you weren't looking for an easy solution to this, as there are none."

"Nothing's ever simple, is it?" Hermione said dryly.

"Never," he agreed. He studied her for a moment then asked, "What will you tell your parents?"

She laughed hollowly. "As little as I have to. And yours?" His face darkened and she looked at him in alarm. "Sorry. I have no right to ask-"

"No. No you don't," he said shortly, and turned his back on Hermione. He ran a hand over his face, the lines of his scowl prominent, and didn't notice the sound of movement behind him.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly, and Snape turned back to face her. She finished pulling on her robes and studied him for a moment. "You already know that I trust you, but you don't trust me at all, do you?" she added softly. "I honestly don't know what I expected of you, but maybe I thought you might trust me a little, at least." She stopped short and shook her head. "Goodbye, Professor."

He didn't reply, instead merely choosing to watch her sweep out of the door. He sighed wearily and continued to stare at the door for a few seconds before moving over to his desk. He had marking to do.

xxx

Hermione heard a sigh and looked up from her book. Snape was watching her, brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I-" He studied her intently, then stood up and walked over towards her and sat in the chair opposite. "You do deserve to know. At least now."

Hermione raised an eyebrow in confusion, but decided it wasn't the best time to interrupt. She closed her book and put it down on the coffee table, then looked up at him expectantly and waited.

He sighed heavily and began to speak in a monotonous tone, devoid of compassion, "My parents are dead. My mother refused to join the Dark Lord, so he ordered her killed. As a test of loyalty, it was my father that had to do the act. He knew it was inevitable, as he valued his own life above everything else, so he staged an argument and made sure it escalated. My father poisoned her, but made everyone believe it was suicide."

Hermione swallowed, not daring to look into the haunted eyes of the man opposite.

"And- And your father?"

"He was killed by the Dark Lord. Apparently, he didn't do well enough in the task he was set."

It was a horrible thing to hear, and he remained silent for a while whilst she thought over what he had said.

"So… why did you become a Death Eater, then, when they killed your family?" she asked quietly, hoping she wasn't going to push this display of trust and openness too far.

"I didn't know, at the time, that it was my father who killed her, or that the Dark Lord was the reason for my father's death. When I received a secret letter from my mother that was sent out after her death, telling of her refusal to join the Dark Lord and her suspicions, it was then that I found out what had really happened."

"And that made you change sides?"

"No. It made me aware of the truth. When they killed- It wasn't just that which made me change."

He looked away, ashamed of himself. Hermione hesitated for a second before crossing over to kneel by him so she could see his face, but he spoke first.

"Tell me, how is it fair that you have to risk your life for a monster like me?" he said quietly, serious contemplation on his face.

"Tell me how it is fair that you have to risk your life, day in, day out, playing the role of double agent, doing other peoples' bidding, just because you're pressured into having a moral obligation to do so?"

He looked at her, shock evident on his face. She gingerly placed her hand over his and squeezed it gently.

"You are not a monster. Not anymore."

"You have a better estimation of Dumbledore than most, you know."

"Hmmm, well, I'm cynical."

Snape studied her. He had seen the way her eyes filled with horror at his recounting of those atrocities, and mentally reprimanded himself.

"I shouldn't have told you about my parents; not so much, at least. You didn't need to know all that."

It was her turn to look away. He gently pulled her up so she was sat next to him and pulled her close.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked in the first place."

"No, you do have that right now. I do trust you, Hermione." He sighed. "All we seem to be doing is apologising. There isn't anything for either of us to be apologising for.

"Also-" a scowl crossed his face for a moment before he continued, "-you may address me as Severus."

She relaxed in his arms and rested her head against his chest, a smile on her face. For the first time in a long time she felt totally safe.

xxx

"I'm sure you think you're being helpful, Dumbledore, but you're not," Snape said, glaring at the Headmaster.

"I think its an excellent opportunity for you both to get out of the castle, not to mention for her to pick your brains for the afternoon."

"Minerva-"

"Severus, as if he's going to listen to me now he thinks he's on to a good idea," she replied tartly.

"What could possibly go wrong?" the Headmaster questioned flippantly.

"Well, let's see. We could-"

"Severus, you really do think the worst is going to happen."

"Because, usually, it does," he said darkly.

"Now, Severus-"

His response was cut short as the door opened, and Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Harry entered the hall for breakfast. It was a few days into the Christmas holidays, and the few people that were actually staying were sat on one table together. Hermione was the last to sit down, which meant that she was the 'unlucky sod' that had to sit next to Snape.

"Miss Granger, how would you feel about going to Diagon Alley with Professor Snape?" Dumbledore asked. "He needs a few ingredients, and you are welcome to go along."

"Really, Albus? Welcome? Not all of the ingredients can be found in Diagon Alley," he said pointedly. Most of his private stocks could only be replenished by visiting Knockturn Alley. Definitely not the best place for a student to be.

"She'll be safe with you."

"Perhaps Hermione doesn't want to go," Minerva said.

"I wouldn't want to be a burden," the girl in question said. She could feel Snape's silently pleading look boring into her.

"Nonsense," Dumbledore said, standing up. "There will be a carriage waiting for you both. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Dumbledore-"

"Come, now, Severus. It's only an afternoon shopping. Unless you wish to supervise the next Hogsmeade weekend…."

Snape was seething, but the Headmaster didn't seem to notice, or perhaps just didn't care, and left the hall. Hermione looked apologetically at Severus.

"You are a Muggleborn female Gryffindor, going down to London with me, of all people," he muttered, then eyed her critically. "That man has a death wish for everyone."

"Just the way to make her feel better," Minerva said sarcastically.

"Do not wear school uniform, robes or cloak, or anything remotely Gryffindor. If you must wear Muggle clothing, do not make it obvious."

"That bad?"

"I hope not." He too rose and turned to leave but added, "I shall see you outside my office in a few minutes."

Harry and Ron shared glances, then looked back at Hermione, who shrugged.

"It'll be alright," Minerva said as Severus left. "He won't let you get hurt."

xxx

"Don't talk with any strangers, even if they seem normal. Never take anything someone offers you, no matter how ordinary it seems."

"Severus, you sound like my mother."

"Am I the only one who seems remotely concerned about taking a student to a public place that could be heaving with Death Eaters where, as far as they know, I'm evil?"

"You don't need to be so alarmed, we'll be fine," Hermione said, patting him on the arm, smiling slightly.

The thestral-pulled carriage stopped abruptly. Hermione drew her robe – a slightly altered one that belonged to Severus – closer around her in a vain attempt to combat the cold. He held out his hand to help her out of the carriage, and they walked to the Disapparation point, subconsciously nearing each other, neither realising that they hadn't relinquished the hold on the others' fingers.

"Ready?"

Hermione nodded and Snape wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

The sensation was rather like being transported by a portkey but, thanks to Severus, she was still standing when they landed. They appeared in the back yard of the Leaky Cauldron pub, and the professor pulled out his wand to open the way to Diagon Alley.

Bustling people jostled each other as they strived to get the best bargains. Merchants of all things imaginable – and some you didn't want to imagine – called out at passers by, trying to reel in customers. Various smells assaulted her senses, most of the unpleasant kind.

"Stay close," Severus ordered, and he began to carve a path through the crowd. Hermione followed obediently in his wake, the warnings of possible Death Eater attacks still ringing in her ears.

"What do you need to buy?"

"Ingredients."

"Never," Hermione mumbled as they turned off the main street. He led her into a dark shop, full to the brim of boxes and jars of pickled specimens.

"Stay here. Don't touch anything."

Hermione nodded but never took her roaming eyes away from the walls. Severus left her to seek out the shop owner and do business, yet couldn't keep his mind away from his young charge. He had heard of the expression 'like a child in a candy store', but never 'a child in a Potions shop'. Her eyes were wide with amazement as she inspected some of the labels from afar.

Severus turned at the sound of footsteps to see the owner, an old greying man whose face was plastered with a fake yellow-toothed smile.

"How may I help you, Professor?"

xxx

The bell rang as they exited another shop, and they stepped out in to the street, immediately caught up in a fresh snowstorm. The wind whipped Hermione's hair around her face, making it wilder than ever.

The streets were relatively deserted compared with the earlier crush, and Severus surveyed the people still there. Hermione was struggling to retie her hair back when he grabbed her and pulled her close.

"What the-"

"Be quiet."

Hermione looked up at him. He was holding her to his chest with their backs towards the street, and she followed his gaze into the window where she saw the reflection of two men nearing them.

"Are they…" She looked at his arm where the Dark Mark was burned. In the window, Severus' counterpart nodded, and Hermione tensed.

"As long as they don't recognise me, we'll be fine," he whispered, leaning closer under the pretence of examining something in the shop window display.

"And if they do?"

"Run," he replied dakly.

The two cloaked figures walked closer, and Hermione could hear their voices on the wind, but couldn't make out what they were saying. As the men passed, she felt Severus' protective hold tighten reassuringly, and he sighed in relief when they proceeded up the road. They stopped and entered a seedy looking shop, and Severus quickly led her in the opposite direction, back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Why did I let Dumbledore talk me – blackmail me – into this?" he said as they walked back through the wall and into the pub. "I need to go to Knockturn Alley, and I am not taking you. As if this wasn't dangerous enough… Just to be seen out with me…"

Hermione thought it was best not to interrupt his ranting, and allowed him to steer her over to a hidden table in the corner. She sat down and pulled off her damp cloak.

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine," she said, and right on cue her stomach rumbled noisily.

"You may be fine, but you're hungry. What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing-"

He ignored her and called Tom the barkeeper over.

"What do you want," he repeated.

"Just soup or something."

"Miss Granger-"

"Soup, then. Thank you."

Tom glanced between the two bickering customers, but his job wasn't to ask prying questions. He turned to Severus.

"And for you, Professor?"

He saw Hermione's glare behind Tom, and sighed resignedly

"The same."

xxx

"What would have happened if they saw us?" Hermione asked after a few minutes in silence as they ate their meal.

He thought of the best way to answer her question without giving anything away to eavesdroppers.

"I wouldn't have been able to openly protect you, they would tell the others about seeing us, and suspicions would be raised. Then, things probably would spiral out of control, and the results wouldn't be good," he replied solemnly, but there wasn't his usual bite to his voice.

Hermione nodded and continued with her meal, contemplating his words. Severus put down his spoon and stood up.

"I am going to finish getting the rest of my ingredients, but you will stay here," he said. "Remember what I've told you. I won't be long."

"Okay."

She watched him disappear from view, and sunk further down into her chair, wishing that she had a book to read.

xxx

Severus hurried back to the pub as fast as he could without drawing attention. He entered through the back in a flurry of snow, and walked in to the main room.

No Hermione.

He went up to the table. Her cloak was still on the chair, which had been thrown back, resting on two legs against the wall. Butterbeer was spilt over the table, and the glass was on the floor. His mind filled in the missing details: struggle.

Tom didn't know what had happened until he found himself held up by the neck of his shirt against the wall of his private rooms.

"P-Professor!"

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"The girl I was with."

"Oh! I- I don't know. Ow!" Tom choked, kicking out feebly. "I don't know."

Severus dropped the old man back to his feet, and stalked back out again. The place was practically deserted, with only a few customers scattered out of view. He bent down to pick up the glass and put it back on the table, then gathered up her cloak.

How was he supposed to explain that he had lost his student? Snatched from under his care whilst out on a mundane trip to buy ingredients. If the Death Eaters he had seen earlier had stopped by for a drink, they may have recognised her. Or they may have thought she just looked like a bit of fun.

He shuddered violently. Turning to leave in search of Hermione, he bumped into something and surreptitiously drew out his wand, ready to defend himself against-

"Miss Granger!"

"Sir," she said weakly, from her position on the floor.

"Where the hell have you been, girl?" he hissed.

"Tom sent out someone to give me a free Butterbeer whilst I was waiting and he spilt it over me. I went to the toilets to dry it. Seeing as I can't use magic out of school, and all," she added when he didn't look convinced.

He could now plainly see the dark patch on her white shirt, and held out a hand to help her up.

"What did you think had happened?"

"The worst."

She brushed herself off and took back her cloak. He was still shaking in rage, but Hermione failed to suppress a smile.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Professor," she said, then added quietly, "It's just nice to know you care."

He stared at her for a moment, before turning on his heel and sweeping out of the pub to the Apparation point. Hermione hurriedly pulled on her cloak and scurried after him.

xxx

Apologies for the long delay. Exams have taken over but I should get back to regular updates soon. :)

Thank you for all your reviews, and not to mention your patience!


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Nine **

"You're marking on Christmas Eve!" Hermione exclaimed incredulously.

"What else is there to do?" Severus asked her, looking up from the essays on his desk. Hermione shook her head at his perverse pleasure from ruining young children's self-confidence, and entered his rooms properly.

"Well… Normal people sit around the fire, talking, laughing, getting drunk… but never mind that one. You're supposed to be relaxing," she said, sitting down in her chair.

He snorted in reply.

"Since when have I been 'normal'?" he asked absently, scribbling another note at the bottom of some poor person's essay. "A mundane, average, fatuous existence; what I wouldn't give to be normal," he said darkly. "And that reminds me, don't Potter and Weasley want to know why you aren't in Gryffindor Tower, as you said, by the fire, talking, laughing, and failing to hold down alcohol?"

"Must you insist on insulting my friends?"

"Yes."

She glowered at him but said, "I've told you, they don't really-"

"Care?"

"-bother where I am. They think the evil potions master has me slaving away over a boiling cauldron. Since the Headmaster took away Harry's map to attach it to the wards, the only way they can find out I'm here is to follow me under his Invisibility Cloak, or for me to tell him. And I'm not going to do that; he might die of shock."

"Then please, tell him," Severus drawled. He placed his quill on the desk and sat back, noticing for the first time that Hermione had already sat down.

"What?"

"You seem rather at home in my quarters."

He saw her eyes, so revealing, as they saddened. It was only an observation, yet she was upset by it. Not that he was sorry; he wasn't about to relinquish sole possession of his quarters any time soon.

"Well, I'm going back to the Tower soon, I only came to give you this," she replied brusquely. She stood up and pulled out a package, covered in black paper with a silver ribbon holding it in place.

"What's this?"

"Merry Christmas. And don't look so shocked. It's been a tradition now for quite a number of years, you know, giving people presents…"

"Sarcasm doesn't befit you."

"No, that's your forte, I suppose."

He glared at her in typical fashion, but retrieved a present of his own from his desk. He joined her in the middle of his room, somewhat awkwardly, and held it out.

Hermione allowed a smile at the gold and red wrapping paper, and his look dared her to comment on it. Instead, she restrained herself and held out hers. They exchanged gifts, then stood there on the spot.

"I- I'd better get going. Thank you, Severus." She looked at him expectantly, and after a moment of silence sighed and started towards the door.

Severus frowned at the gift in his hands, surprised, amazed. "Thank you, Hermione."

He heard her stop by the door. Then, in a rush of Gryffindor impulsiveness, she retraced her steps and kissed him gently on his cheek.

She left in a hurry, not daring to look back, but she could clearly imagine him stood still in shock, staring at the spot where she had been stood.

And he was.

- - -

When Severus awoke, it was the first time he could remember that he'd actually looked forward to opening his presents. He clambered out of bed, summoned his ritual early morning coffee, and looked over the small pile on his coffee table. The luminous colours assaulting his eyes did nothing to brighten his morning-induced mood, but he sat down, determined to leave Hermione's present for last.

Socks and a bag of Muggle sweets from Albus, _for a change_. A large bottle of Firewhisky from Minerva, a_t least it's useful_. A set of rare potions ingredients from Pomona Sprout; an old text on something-or-other from Filius. And from Hermione….

If he cared, it would have seemed like sacrilege to destroy something that had been completed with such care, but he tore open the wrapping. He let the black paper and silver ribbon fall to the floor as he stared at the book in his hands in shock.

_Potiones Through the Ages: A Definitive Collectione_

He carefully opened the front cover and yellowed parchment greeted his eyes, yet the hand-written text was still as vibrant and clear as the day it had been written in… 1609.

"Bloody hell," he murmured, as he delicately flipped through the pages. The pages were illustrated in detailed, if sometimes gruesome, hand drawn pictures. Vengeful potions, elixirs, deadly draughts, they were all in there. All he could think was that it was amazing, and a small part of his brain felt guilty as it must have cost her so much. Only a small part, though.

For once, Severus Snape was rendered speechless.

- - -

Hermione slipped out of bed and picked up Crookshanks, who purred deeply.

"Let's see what we have here." She sat cross-legged at the bottom of her bed and began to open her presents.

Toffees, a book, sweets, the traditional Weasley jumper, sweets, another book, and more sweets. And… Severus's present. _To Hermione, from Severus_ the tag read. With some trepidation, she pulled the golden ribbon and let it unfurl, then began to peel back the red paper. The corner of an old book peeped out, and she ripped the paper back to reveal….

"Oooh, Severus, that's not funny."

_The Ultimate Guide to Divination_

"I swear, I'm going to hex you," she muttered, then noticed another book in the wrapping paper. She lifted it out and grinned wryly as she examined the red leather cover. _Hogwarts: A History_ was gilded on in swirly writing. Underneath was a painting of Hogwarts in the moonlight, but before she could look closer, it changed into an autumnal scene. Curious, she opened it halfway through the book on a page with a large picture depicting a bloody battle.

Her own book was nothing like this. She hurriedly turned to the front page where it declared: _As a founder of the school, I, Godric Gryffindor, feel it is my duty to pass on my knowledge to further generations..._ She gasped and went a few pages in. Everything was in handwriting, presumably written by Gryffindor himself.

"Bloody hell," she muttered in shock.

- - -

Hermione rushed down the stairs, hoping to intercept Severus before he appeared for the Christmas dinner. She found him exiting his rooms, and she walked to the hall with him.

"I- I just wanted to say thank you. The book… it's amazing."

"I was just about to say the same thing," Severus said quietly. "Where did you get it from?"

"Now that would be telling," Hermione grinned. "The book…."

"Yes, it's the original copy."

"Wow…. I had no idea."

"Godric Gryffindor felt the need to tell the world of his conquests, so the book will be biased. But as a Gryffindor yourself, I doubt you'll mind. The other three founders stole it, though. You should find some interesting postscripts added," he said, smirking.

"Who continued it, though, when he died?"

"His ghost," he replied offhandedly. Hermione stopped.

"His ghost?"

"Honestly, do you really think a small thing such as death could thwart that man's ego and stop him from gracing us with his presence?" he said.

"I've never thought about it," she said quietly, thinking. "I've never seen them around the school." Severus looked at her sharply, and she added, "I just assumed that of all places their ghosts would stay on here at Hogwarts. Of course, they could be somewhere else-"

"All the founders' ghosts are in the school, but they prefer to keep out of the presence of mere mortals," he said firmly, and Hermione sensed that that line of conversation had ended, although why she wasn't exactly sure.

They continued up towards the entrance hall, where Hermione held him back.

"Thank you, again."

"And thank you."

There was a moment when Hermione thought he was going to return the favour and kiss her, perhaps he may have been thinking of it, but he turned and carried on into the great hall. Hermione sighed and followed.

- - -

Christmas passed quickly, and the first weeks of the next year were busier than ever. But, despite everything, Hermione still visited Severus every night possible. Her friends just passed it off as her overachieving streak raising its over enthusiastic head, but most nights the actual potions lay forgotten.

Severus sighed as Hermione left, and began to undress and get ready for bed. Sharing his rooms with someone was an unfamiliar experience after all these years, but of all the people he would share them with, Hermione was probably the least likely, yet she had settled in well. She had learnt his habits, she knew when not to disturb him, when he was willing to talk… Really, she had learnt to read him very well, especially with his objection to being read.

It perturbed him slightly, but he knew it must happen.

He climbed between the covers and settled down. He thought briefly that he had been sleeping better lately, when his exhausted body relaxed and his brain was finally allowed to rest…

- - -

_It was early morning, so early. Yet two people were up, probably husband and wife. _

_Cards lined the mantelpiece. A Muggle home, judging by the contraptions there. A nice home, not cheap._

_In the kitchen, food was sizzling away. She made him breakfast and brought it to the table. She disappeared out of the room. Reappeared. Handed him a present. They kissed._

"_Happy birthday, darling."_

_He began to open his present. _

_Windows smashed in the background. _

_Cloaked figures appeared, grabbed them. The husband was knocked down and away, they'd have fun with him later. Now they wanted the wife. Bound her. Gagged her. Have that fun now. Silent screams, no one to hear. The husband watched on._

_Fear._

_Death._

_A photo was knocked to the floor. Glass everywhere, piercing the skin, crimson truths leaking away._

_The photograph… the photo…. Man, Woman, Child… Man, Woman, Hermione…._

- - -

He had rolled out of bed and found his robes before he even registered he was awake. Seizing a handful of Floo powder, Severus threw it into the fire.

"Dumbledore's Quarters," he said, pulling on his robes. He found his wand and tucked it into his pocket. He was putting his shoes on when a head appeared in the fire.

"Severus! What in Merlin's name-"

"Is Minerva there?"

"What? Severus!"

"Now isn't the time to play games. Is she there?"

"Y- Yes. I'll get her."

A few moments later, the Scottish witch's rather disgruntled head came into view. Not to mention slightly flushed with embarrassment.

"And what made you think I was here?" she demanded.

"Not now. I need you to go up to Gryffindor Tower and get Hermione."

"Severus?"

"Now, Minerva!"

She frowned, but nodded. Snape gave her a few moments to use the Floo to the Tower, then stepped through to Dumbledore's office.

"What is the meaning of this?" the old man said, surveying Severus.

"I saw her parents being attacked. Death Eaters. I need to ask her something."

"Saw?"

"The Oracle… another vision."

"Ah. When?"

"That's what I need to find out."

Although in a situation he certainly wasn't accustomed to, he trusted Severus, and Dumbledore retreated to his rooms to swap his dressing gown for robes.

Minerva, soon followed by Hermione, stepped out of the fire and Albus returned, all to find Severus pacing. He stopped and turned to Hermione.

"When is your father's birthday?"

"Sev- Uh- Professor, why-"

"When?"

"The sixteenth of Janu- Oh no! It's today! I forgot all about it!" she exclaimed, horrified, then saw Severus' expression and stepped forward. "What is it?"

"Your- Your parents. I saw them being attacked at your home," he said quietly.

"When?"

"Your mother was giving your father his birthday present. It was early morning."

Hermione blanched and her gaze travelled to the window. A small patch of light over the horizon was chasing away the darkness of the night.

"I'll Floo Alastor and some of the others at Headquarters," Dumbledore said, taking control.

"I'm coming with you," Minerva said, turning to leave to change clothes, but Albus stopped her.

"You're staying here."

"No, I'm not. You think I'm just going to let-"

"Minerva, we need someone here, someone capable to control and look after the school."

She narrowed her eyes at him and shrugged out of his grasp, but reluctantly nodded. The Headmaster crossed over to the fire and established a Floo connection with Grimmauld Place. Severus joined Hermione by the window.

"I'll make sure they're okay. I won't let them get hurt," he said softly, standing behind her.

"Severus, you can't go. If any of the Death Eaters recognise you-"

"They won't be leaving the house with a pulse," he interjected.

She bit her lip, and pulled her dressing gown closer with trembling hands. She was momentarily surprised when she felt his hand come to gently rest on her shoulder, but soon relaxed. He was hesitant, if not awkward, but Hermione was grateful and leant into him, drawing much needed support from his warmth.

Behind them, Dumbledore stood up and the fire returned to its normal colour.

"Minerva, alert Poppy so she can be ready for when we get back. They have five minutes to get ready, then we will be Apparating to Miss Granger's home." He glanced at Hermione in Severus' protecting hold, and sighed. "So many rules and regulations shattered into a thousand pieces, and they are only stood there. Sometimes I dare not to think what the Oracle told them, but if they can draw comfort from each other…."

"Since when have rules and regulations been a priority at this school?" Minerva asked, but turned her back on her student and colleague. The right and wrong of being a professor was ingrained too deeply for her to change, but she let compassion override it. "Hadn't you better go?"

Dumbledore looked at the clock and said, "Minerva, lower the wards and we will go, then put them back up immediately. You should feel us trying to get back in."

Snape heard the order and sighed heavily. He turned Hermione to face him and held her arms so she couldn't shy away.

"I'm going to get them back, I promise."

No words would come out so Hermione merely nodded. Severus saw the tears in her eyes and touched her cheek lightly. He made to join Dumbledore, but paused and kissed Hermione on the forehead.

"I promise," he repeated.

Minerva pulled out her wand to lower the wards, but all Hermione noticed was Severus seemingly disappear into thin air.

She turned back to the window. Dawn was closing in fast.

- - -

Thanks for reading! I'm sorry it's taken so long for this update. They're likely to be sporadic from now on, (darn you college, darn you to heck! ;0) ) but I'll try my best. :)


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Ten**

"I'll go and get changed in a minute," Minerva said softly. "Do you want anything before I go." Hermione shook her head without looking at her Head of House, and Minerva crossed over to stand by her. "They'll be alright."

Hermione glanced up at her professor, then back out of the window. Minerva looked around the office, then placed a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"You can wait in our rooms, they're more comfortable."

Hermione barely registered what she had said, when she felt herself being escorted behind Dumbledore's desk, up a small set off stairs and into the Headmaster's private rooms. And McGonagall's too, since she indicated for her to sit down, and entered one of the rooms.

Hermione dropped into one of the chairs by the fire. Fatigue and shock were close to drawing her into slumber, but her mind just wouldn't rest.

_What if Severus is recognised? What if they don't get there in time? What if it isn't really a vision from the Oracle? What if all of this is a mistake? What if_-

"Would you like a drink?"

Hermione started and saw Minerva standing in front of her, buttoning up the rest of her robes over her clothes. Her hair was free and tumbled down her back, waiting to be fastened in its trademark bun.

"Coffee, please." It would at least give her something to do.

"Another person Severus has hooked on caffeine," she said absently, and summoned two mugs from the kitchens. She took a sip of her own drink, and threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire.

"Hospital wing." The fire burned green and Minerva stepped through.

Hermione watched the crackling flames, unrest coursing through her. She clutched her drink close to her chest, trying to draw warmth from it, but all she could feel was fear at losing those she loved the most.

It wasn't long before Minerva returned, and she sat opposite Hermione. A similar restlessness fuelled her, and she wrapped her hands around her drink in an attempt to stop her from tapping on the arm of the chair. The departure of Dumbledore had resulted in the Deputy Headmistress' heightened awareness of the school and its grounds, and she could feel the relative calm of the occupants under her charge. Still, the composed, secure presence of it in her mind did nothing to allay her own anxiety. Eventually, she sighed and began to pace the room, every so often glancing at the clock.

"Professor."

"I'm sorry," she said, and stopped walking. "Waiting just isn't my strong point."

"I know what you mean."

Minerva let out a long sigh, absent of anything comforting to say. She took a few steps to reclaim her seat but stopped and cocked her head to one side, concentrating on something Hermione couldn't see. The murmur at the back of her mind became stronger until she felt something pressing in, as if on the edge of her consciousness.

"They're home," she breathed. She closed her eyes and, focusing hard, lowered the wards. She could feel something passing through, then closed the gap immediately. "They're in the hospital wing." The power of the school slowly shifted, the majority coming to rest on the rightful barer, the Headmaster. "Let's go."

- - -

"She was stabbed in the gut, and put under the Cruciatus Curse. Her hands and feet were bound but the worst of the damage is to her torso." Snape carefully lowered the woman in his arms onto the bed. He brushed aside a lock of brown hair out of her eyes, struck by the resemblance to her daughter. If Hermione had been injured….

"Severus!" Poppy repeated. "Be seeing to the husband." She pressed a tray of medical instruments and potions into his hand and he pulled himself away to treat Mr Granger.

Dumbledore helped him to sit on the bed and Severus drew out his wand.

"This may sting."

Hermione swallowed, tears surfacing in her eyes. Her father looked to be in excruciating agony, but at least he could feel. Her mother was past that, lying almost unconscious with incoherent mutterings escaping her every so often. She desperately wanted to go to them, reassure them, but McGonagall was holding her back.

"Let me go," she pleaded, but Minerva never released her.

"Let Poppy help them. They're in good hands."

Hermione, stressed to breaking point, let the tears trickle down her cheeks and felt Minerva draw her into her embrace. Viewing from a distance, the pair watched as Severus repaired the broken bones, and Poppy tried to stem the blood flow

- - -

Hermione screwed up her eyes as bright light assaulted them. Wincing slightly, she tried to think where she was. _Bed, office, mum and dad… Hospital wing. _She sat up, ignoring her body's protests, and looked around.

"They're okay. You're mother was hurt quite badly, but she will recover." She turned to find Severus sat by her bed. She frowned, confused, and he explained, "You were exhausted. We didn't think you would appreciate us taking you back to Gryffindor Tower so Poppy made you up a spare bed."

She followed his gaze and saw her father on the next bed, and her mother on the next.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

He reached out and squeezed her hand.

"Understandably, you've been excused from today's lessons. Stay here and get some rest." He stood up. "The rest of us, however, have to work."

His dark eyes surveyed her, a brief mental battle being fought in his mind, then, decision reached, he placed a kiss on her forehead and left the ward. She heard a rustling beside her. Her father was looking at her, eyes full of shock and questions that she didn't really want to answer.

"Uh… Hi, dad."

"Hermione," he said weakly, "what's going on?"

Hermione mouthed wordlessly. She had so much to tell, so much to explain, and the mere thought of it all filled her with dread.

"Now, Mr Granger, sit back and let me have a look at you," Poppy said as she bustled over. "You may as well go and get dressed," she added to Hermione.

"I'll talk to you later when mum's awake, okay," she said eventually, and left to go and get dressed, desperately trying to find answers to the inevitable questions.

- - -

From behind the cover of the curtains drawn around the Grangers' beds, Snape stood listening to Hermione. Her voice was low and heavy, the topic of discussion a difficult one, but she spoke on, determined.

"…His supporters are called Death Eaters, and they're the ones that attacked you." He heard her sigh heavily before continuing, "They are under the impression that people who aren't of pure blooded wizard heritage are less worthy then they are."

"What are you saying? That they are at war because… because some people aren't pure-blooded witches and wizards?"

"Yes, basically."

"Then, Hermione, you can't stay here. It's too dangerous. Come home with us," her mother pleaded.

"No, mum, I need to stay here and help."

"Hermione," her father said, and his covers rustled as he presumably leant forward to say imploringly, "this isn't your war to fight."

"But it is. It is."

Deciding it to be as good a time as any to join the conversation, Snape stepped around the curtain. Hermione was sat on her father's bed, the wife and husband listening, horrified.

"Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster, is the greatest wizard of the age, and whilst Miss Granger is here at the school under his protection, she will be the safest she can possibly be."

"And what about my parents?" Hermione asked.

"I believe Dumbledore will be taking them to the Order Headquarters whilst a safehouse is organised." He looked up at the man and woman. "Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master," he said.

"I'm John and this is my wife, Helen," Hermione's father said. Snape shook his hand, then gave an old-fashioned kiss to the back of Helen's hand, causing a stark blush to creep up her pallid cheeks.

"Hermione speaks very highly of you," Helen said, studying the man before her. "I don't know anything, really, about magic, but the way she tells us about your lessons, it is obvious she enjoys them immensely."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, Mrs Granger, but I assure you that with students such as your daughter, as long as they learn something they are happy."

"Don't be so modest," she laughed, "and please, call me Helen."

"Not modest, merely honest. I could say Miss Granger has a particular gift for my lessons, but that seems to be true for every subject." He glanced at Hermione, who had a dark flush creeping up her cheeks. "And that just goes to show that blood does not matter. Death Eaters are people that are becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the presence of new lines of witches and wizards. A long time ago, the large, pureblooded families held supremacy over the rest, and this is merely one argument among many to convince others to follow their 'cause' and to regain their dominance. Whilst born to non-magical parents, your daughter is probably the best witch to come to this school since Minerva McGonagall."

"Why, Severus, you flatter me," Minerva said by way of announcing her and Dumbledore's arrival. Everyone turned to face them, noticing them for the first time.

"It was either you, or compare her to Tom Riddle," Snape replied coolly.

Her parents were introduced to the two new professors to arrive, then Minerva bent down and said to Hermione, "Potter and Weasley will probably be coming soon. Give them a chance."

"Easier said than done."

"Perhaps, but they need you now."

It was Hermione's turn to raise an eyebrow, but she heard voices out in the corridor. Minerva nodded at her and she stood up.

"I'll be back in a minute."

"Would you like me to tell Madam Pomfrey to make up two more beds, or would you prefer to leave them twitching in pain out in the corridor?"

Hermione snorted at Snape, but merely shook her head in response. Leaving her parents and professors to talk, she walked out to see Harry and Ron.

"Hermione, we were so worried," Harry said, running forward to pull her into a hug. "How are your mum and dad?"

"They're going to be okay, thankfully." She looked over his shoulder at Ron, who was stony-faced. Harry stepped away to let her and Ron talk, and the redhead approached her.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I'm… I'm an idiot, taking you for granted like that, and I never meant to hurt you. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Yes. Now isn't the time to be holding grudges," she said, although her voice was clipped. She felt herself being pulled into a fierce embrace and, after a moment, hugged him back.

"Sorry, Hermione." He was smiling slightly as he stepped away.

"So, you going to take us to see your parents? I don't think we were ever properly introduced," Harry said brightly. She was thankful for the change of topic, and led them into the hospital wing.

"This is my mum and dad, Helen and John, and these are my two best friends, Harry and Ron."

There was an unmistakable smile on Minerva's face at their reconciliation, but Hermione's own faltered when Harry spotted Snape.

"What's he doing here?"

"Harry, shut up."

"No. It was probably his fault they were attacked, Hermione. He could have stopped it, but no-"

The sound of the slap echoed painfully off the stone walls.

"You deserved that, Harry Potter," she hissed, stepping closer. "For your information, he was the one that helped to _save_ them. He is here because I want him here, because he is the reason why my parents are still alive."

"You've changed, Hermione."

"Yes. Yes I have," she said quietly. "And you need to. You may have responsibilities that the rest of us can't even begin to fathom, but that doesn't give you the right to walk around all high-and-mighty. You ought to give us a chance to try and understand."

"Hermione," Ron began. "It's been a rough day, just try and calm-"

"Don't you start. Let's at least try to make this friendship last more than ten minutes." She stepped back, and for the first time saw the fear in their eyes. She sighed and added, "Look, we're all in this together, on the _same_ _side_. Let's grow up and leave childish grudges outside and work as the proper team that we are. And that means you too," she added, glaring at the Potion Master.

A stunned silence filled the room, and Hermione realised for the first time just how many people were staring at her. Her body seemed to droop, strength diminished and embarrassment burning her cheeks. Ron was right, it had been a draining twenty-four hours and she hadn't realised just how worked up she'd been.

Dumbledore, amusement evident in his gaze, was to first to eventually speak up. "Well said, Miss Granger."

"Feel better now?" Minerva asked, her lips curving into a smile.

"Much," Hermione replied weakly.

"Five points to Gryffindor," Snape drawled. Hermione looked at him in shock and he added, "for brightening my day." He eyed the red mark appearing on Harry's cheek with a condescending smirk, and Ron grabbed Harry's arm to stop him launching himself at his hated professor, but one glare to each of them restored them to their rightful places.

"So anyway, as I was saying… mum, dad, these are my two best friends, Harry and Ron."

- - -

"Well, that was fun," Minerva said curtly when her three students had walked out of hearing range. "How many times do I need to tell you, Severus, to stop baiting them?"

"Somehow that doesn't have quite the same effect coming from you," he replied. "Try lowering your obvious Gryffindor favouritism-"

Glancing at the Hermione's parents, she sighed and said, "Not now, Severus."

"That's a first. Minerva McGonagall ending an argument."

"No," she said. "Now is hardly the time or place, and we need to see Poppy about making sure Mr and Mrs Granger are well enough to travel." _Plus, Mr and Mrs Granger really want to talk to you... _She stood up and, after a swift look, Dumbledore followed her into Madam Pomfrey's office.

"From what I hear," Helen said calmly, "you are just as biased with your own House. Blindingly so, sometimes."

"Everyone has a role to play, and the politics within the school must be balanced and worked a certain way."

"And what is your role?"

"I have many of them, Mrs Granger."

She continued her look of scrutiny for a moment more, and nodded, a faint smile playing on her still pale face.

"So, professor, what do you really think of our daughter?"

"John!"

"Okay then, why did you kiss her?" The normally mild tempered man had found his angrier streak, determined to protect his daughter.

"Calm down," his wife chided.

"But he kissed her."

"On the forehead. I know, you've told me." She turned to look Snape directly in the eye and continued, "As long as Severus has no intentions of hurting our daughter, then I have no grounds on which to disagree. Two intelligent people in a loving relationship … Hermione is not a child any more."

"I have no intentions whatsoever of hurting Hermione," Severus said, deciding to take the honest route and admit to their 'something'.

"But he's her professor."

"Yes. But I'm sure you remember how we met." Her soft tone hardened as she said, "As long as she is happy, then I shall not object, but understand this, if my Hermione is hurt, you will wish that you had never been born."

"Completely understood," he ensured her, voice free of the usual sarcasm.

"Good," she said brightly. "Then please, tell me about the castle; it really is beautiful."

"That… may have to wait." Severus sucked in a deep breath and looked out of the window, where the sun was setting in the sky.

"We are going to take you to the Order Headquarters where you'll be safe," Dumbledore said as he and Minerva came out of the office. "Poppy said you will be fine for travelling, but you both need to rest." His gaze travelled to Severus, where the now familiar expression of pain was crossing his face. "Severus?"

"If I was to hazard a guess, I would say the Dark Lord is extremely pissed at you right now," he said through clenched teeth as the pain in his arm flared up again. "Make sure they are safe. I should be back in the morning."

He stalked out of the ward, wondering how the blame would be shifted to him this time. He hadn't been informed of the planned attacked, and that meant that the Dark Lord had his suspicions. All in all, it wasn't good.


	11. Chapter Eleven

  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.  
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A Matter of Need

Chapter Eleven

The ground was firm under them as Severus and the other Death Eaters crawled along to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes. They formed the customary circle, each wondering what had gone wrong, each hoping they wouldn't get the blame.

"I am most displeased." Voldemort's voice carried on the open air, rustling his followers like the wind rustled the surrounding trees. "Tonight was to be a night of celebration of our feats, rather than a commemoration of your idiocy. Severus!"

Snape inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, but didn't otherwise move or speak.

"What happened tonight?"

"I don't know, Milord."

"And why don't you know?"

"Because you chose not to divulge your plans to me, my Lord." For a moment, Snape thought he was going to be on the receiving end of a curse, but instead, Voldemort laughed.

"Well, I'll tell you," he said, and began to walk around the circle slowly, speaking as he went, "Tonight was the night I had planned to start our campaign, but due to the carelessness and incompetence of some of our numbers, it turned into a farce!" A small shudder circled him, terror hidden behind the white masks. "Various households up and down the country were to be targeted. Ministry officials, Mudbloods from that school, they were supposed to be receiving bad news in the morning."

"Milord-"

"Crucio. It's no wonder you performed so badly if you cannot even listen." He watched with satisfaction as the Death Eater tumbled to the floor, twitching senselessly. "Instead, the Mudblood-loving old fool managed to get there in time. Severus, tell me, how did he know our plan?"

Accusation was in his every fibre as he glared at Snape, and the Potions master answered carefully, "I do not know. If I had known of your intentions, I would have been honoured to help with the attacks, or head him off, but I knew nothing."

Snape watched apprehensively as Voldemort continued to study him, then as his lips curved to form a smile.

"I should never doubt you, should I? You prove to be rather useful… sometimes. Have they not allowed you further into their Order yet."

"Dumbledore doesn't appear inclined to allow me any higher than any of the normal staff."

"It seems Dumbledore doesn't trust you?"

"I just think he dislikes me."

"Oh, how could he not like the Snape charm?" Voldemort said sarcastically. "But I do need that information. You know what happens when I am not satisfied?"

Severus wanted to curse him right there and be done with it, but of course, it would be he that would end up dead Small price to pay, really… but it wouldn't be honourable… "Of course, Master."

"And another thing…" Something about the tone of Voldemort's voice made Severus' blood run cold. "Lucius has been telling me of a particular girl you seem to be expressing quite some interest in."

Despite his best efforts, his well-practised indifference, Snape tensed and glanced over Voldemort's shoulder to see Lucius on the opposite side of the circle. Malfoy nodded slightly, mockingly, the smugness in his eyes clearly visible, even from that distance.

"Of which girl do you speak?"

"The Mudblood."

"Which one?"

"Yes… there are so many of them, aren't there." He turned to Malfoy. "What is she called again, Lucius?"

"Granger, I believe, Milord."

"The one that keeps outsmarting your son?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes at Voldemort but nodded and bowed his head. The Dark Lord stepped closer to Snape.

"Tell me, Severus, is she any good?" he whispered in something akin to a hiss.

"My Lord?"

In response, the serpentine wizard began to laugh.

"Don't tell me you haven't bedded her yet? All those opportunities… Slipping, are we?"

"Granger is an annoying Mudblood. Not only is she friends with Potter, but under extra surveillance from the professors, especially McGonagall. If I did go deranged and for some reason wanted to touch her, then it would be very difficult."

"Such things have never bothered you before. In fact, I remember you commenting that that was half the fun."

Severus nearly blanched at the words, a reminder of his life gone by.

"Anything where Granger is concerned cannot be called 'fun'."

"She could be useful…"

Why did the Dark Lord enjoy playing with him so much?

"Unless the secrets of the Order are written down in a book, I doubt she knows anything."

"But those cosy sessions of yours down in the dungeons would be an ideal opportunity to ply her for information." He raised what would have been an eyebrow. "Or don't you agree?"

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and Severus replied cautiously, "I merely think that it would be highly out of character for me to give a damn about the students' private lives."

Never taking his eyes away from Severus', Voldemort said, "Perhaps you're right. Whatever would I do without you?" he added lightly. He ran a white, thin finger along his lower lip, then waved his hand with a flourish. "Get out my sight. Now."

The air filled with loud pops, and a moment later, Snape was stood outside the castle gates. He stepped out of the trees and rubbed his face wearily, then pushed open the gates to report the meeting to Dumbledore.

- - - 

"You did well."

"I was lucky," Snape said and shook his head and looked up at Dumbledore. "He'll be calling individual people back, torturing them, seeing why his plan failed. How did you know there would be other attacks?"

"I was lucky." Snape scowled at Dumbledore, who added, "I guessed that he would be wanting to make a big move, do something with an impact. When I was talking to Alastor I told him to alert others around the country. Thankfully, most were successful."

"Most?"

"A ministry worker's husband down south was killed, and another in the north-east died on the way to St Mungo's. There were a few injured, though, but they should all be fine."

"And why isn't this all over the news?"

"The Ministry leans heavily on the newspapers. They are still in denial, or at least they want to be. If news got out, they would have to confirm or deny the story. Confirmation would send the world into panic and anarchy, and if they denied it, the story would be proved eventually. If they are questioned, then they will report it as random attacks in the Dark Lord's name, but otherwise they will do their best to bury it." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Anyway, you'd better go and rest."

He stood up, but asked, "Did you take the Grangers?"

"Yes, they're at Grimmauld Place. Miss Granger is staying there tonight, too. We had no choice but to tell her where you had gone," Dumbledore said apologetically, and Snape winced.

"What did she say?"

"Actually, she merely nodded and began to help her parents get ready to leave. She was in the hospital wing that night, Severus, when you revealed who you really are. She's kept that secret since the end of her fourth year, and that must mean something."

"Like what?"

"Whatever you wish it to mean," he replied serenely. "You know, I think Mrs Granger likes you."

"And Mr Granger wants to see me dead. I think I've done relatively well." He picked up his cloak and mask with disgust. "I'll dispose of these and go over there."

Dumbledore nodded and Snape left to stow the cloak and mask away in his rooms.

- - -

After much persuasion, Hermione had been convinced to go to bed. Minerva had left, Molly was asleep upstairs, and her parents were down the hall, but she couldn't sleep as thoughts of someone else kept invading her mind.

She pulled the bedclothes around her and sunk further down under the covers. She had been watching the clock ever since Dumbledore had told her that Severus had gone to a 'meeting'. It had been hours, now, and he still wasn't back. She knew what that meant, could guess what it entailed, and silent horror filled her every time her mind wandered to that particular thought.

A creaking out on the stairs made her stiffen, and she strained her hearing. Soft footfalls marked the arrival of someone, and she listened as they came closer. They paused, and the doorknob turned slowly, and the person slowly opened the door, causing Hermione to sit up.

"Severus?"

"Hermione."

He stepped in and closed the door, and in the faint amber light from the streetlights outside, she could see him walk around the bed to come and sit by her.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm still alive, so, compared to some, I'm doing well."

"Severus!"

"It's alright. The Dark Lord was just a bit pissed that the body count wasn't as high as he wanted."

She was momentarily surprised by his bluntness, but considering what he'd been through, she couldn't blame him it. She settled on muttering, "Just the way to make me feel better."

Severus sighed and Hermione realised how tired he looked. She moved across to one side of the bed and threw the covers back.

"Get in."

"What? No!"

"You're exhausted."

"Maybe so, but I can't just sleep with a student. There are rules-"

"You know, I don't think they matters anymore," she replied with a frown.

Severus sighed heavily, uneasily, but kicked off his shoes and sat down on the bed. He leant back against the headboard as she pulled the covers over them both and settled down. Severus' eyes sparkled in the faint orange light from the streetlight, but it wasn't long before the relief and fatigue sent Hermione to sleep, and her head drooped and came to rest on his chest. He shifted uncomfortably before seeing the innocent smile on her face, and relaxed slightly. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, briefly wondering how she could trust him enough to fall asleep, but banished the thought to allow himself to drift off too.

- - -

"Are you sure you're going to be safe, though?"

"Mum, as safe as I'm going to be."

Hermione's mother raised an eyebrow and sighed at her daughter.

"You're not filling me with confidence."

"Hogwarts is the safest place for her," Minerva said. Across the table, Helen shared a look with her husband and they nodded at each other, although they still looked uncomfortable with the idea.

The fire of Grimmauld Place flared green and Dumbledore stepped through into the kitchen.

"Good morning," he said as he took the seat next to Minerva, who proceeded to pour him a drink of tea. "Two good friends of mine have agreed to take you in where you will be safe."

"Agreed to take us in?" John questioned.

"Don't worry, I think they will enjoy having guests, actually," Albus replied. "They live in America, a good deal away from any trouble. Madame Pomfrey said you should be fine to travel."

"Thank you so much, all of you." Helen turned to her daughter. "I wish you'd come with us."

"Mum-"

"I know," she interjected with a small smile. "Just please be careful. And make up with Harry and Ron."

Hermione blushed and began to study the deep scratches in the wooden table.

"You did react a little… overzealous," Helen said to her daughter, who shrugged.

"I know, I know. But it was about time something was said. Sometimes I wish they'd just grow up and bury their childish grudges. I love them like brothers but… they can be such idiots," she finished flatly. Severus smiled smugly.

"Idiots," he mused. "That doesn't cover it."

"Just because they seem to attract trouble."

"Go looking for it, more like." Severus looked at Hermione. "They'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Severus, silently hexing him into next week. She could feel her parents' questioning looks on her, the seriousness of Snape's voice not lost on them.

"I guess now you can tell us," Helen said quietly. "After all, we've just learnt about a war we didn't know existed. School antics can't be that bad, now."

"You'd be surprised," Minerva said with a sidelong glare at her pupil.

"No. Don't-"

"From her first year she has been helping Harry and Ron through problems which would have stumped many full grown wizards. Through magical challenges, dangerous creatures and escaped convicts she has endured, her support and abilities ensuring that they at least escaped relatively unscathed."

"Why are you saying all of this?" Hermione said weakly. "Please- Don't-"

Minerva turned to Hermione. "The point we are trying to make is that you need to realise your importance as a member of the infamous trio. What Severus said could very well be true. If you and Harry weren't friends…"

Hermione blinked at Minerva, lost for words.

"It is true, Hermione," came Dumbledore's soft voice. "Every action has its reaction, each decision a consequence. Whilst spoken out loud it may seem melodramatic, but you have been a strong influence in helping to shape young Harry's life and, as a result, save many others." Here he turned to her horrified parents and said, "Please do not be so terrified by these stories. I know they must be a lot to digest, but your daughter is a strong, intelligent young woman, and very capable, and they only further illustrate that point."

"It's just…" John trailed off, shaking his head.

"We never realised … All these years and we never realised…"

"Mum, dad, I didn't want to scare you."

"But… My baby's all grown up," her mother whispered. 

"Mum-"

"No." A new resolved passed through Helen, and she held her head up high, fiercely proud of her daughter, if not more than a little scared for her. "Headmaster, Minerva, keep her safe. Severus-" She eyed him carefully. "-protect her. And Hermione, go and make friends again with Harry and Ron. By the sounds of it they need you." She shared a look with her husband.

"Thank you for all that you've done for us," John said. "We are ready to go, if that is alright."

"There's no problem at all if you wish to stay the weekend," Dumbledore said.

"It's fine. Besides, I think Hermione has something more important to do."

"If you are sure, then I will alert my contacts and you can gather your belongings." Dumbledore stood up, and so did Hermione's parents, who smiled at their daughter and left the kitchen.

"Why? Please tell me why you had to tell my parents and scare them half to death?" she said through clenched teeth. All her inferiority to her professors was forgotten as she looked from Severus to Minerva.

"Did they not deserve to know?" Severus questioned evenly.

"I didn't tell them because I knew it would terrify them."

"I think they handled it rather well," Minerva said. "Perhaps you should give them a little credit. Not only that, but I think you should give yourself some credit." Her gaze softened as she continued, "Every year you have risked your life, and you have come out on top. If, God forbid, something did happen to you, wouldn't they deserve to know exactly what their daughter was fighting for?"

Hermione bowed her head, suddenly ashamed. She had never looked at it from that perspective, and even though it scared her, it was true.

"I'm going to go and talk to them."

She found them in their room, small bags at the foot of the bed with a handful of belongings retrieved from their house. They were sat together on the bed, arms around each other, and when Hermione pushed the door open, they lifted their heads to look at her.

"Mum, dad-"

She couldn't continue any further as her mother had ran over and pulled her into an enormous embrace.

"We know why you didn't tell us, Hermione, but now we do know everything, we want you to know that we are so proud of you." Helen pulled back but still held her daughter. "Whatever happens, we love you."

"Stay safe, Hermione," her father said, and smiled slightly at her.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked.

"We'll be fine. Really. Stay in touch as much as you can," Helen said. "Come on, let's go down."

John picked up the bags and Helen followed, one arm pressed against her injured side, the other wrapped around Hermione. At the bottom of the stairs, Helen checked they were alone and turned to Hermione.

"I have to ask, what happened between you and Severus? I trust you and your judgement implicitly, but how did it all begin?"

"It's … complicated. We- uh- worked together in the lab when he was tutoring me in advanced potions. We talked, became friends…" She trailed off and shrugged. Helen grinned.

"Sounds a bit like me and your father."

_That's what you think_, Hermione thought grimly, then added out loud, "You… You're all right with this? With us?"

Helen sighed and glanced at her husband through the open kitchen door, talking with Minerva.

"Hermione," she replied eventually, "if we showed disapproval, would it change anything between you and Severus?"

Her gaze fell to the floor, and she shook her head.

"Then we're going to support our daughter and her partner. Truthfully, I'd be a hypocrite if a said anything against it. Severus seems… intelligent, interesting, and, well, he is mature. Plus it seems as if you're both going to be needing someone soon." Her mother smiled at her and said, "Minerva and the Headmaster seem protective, old fashioned; why have they not split you two up?"

"Like I said, it's complicated. Maybe they thought it would do us both good." She eyed her parent. "And what does dad think?"

"He's your father. No man is good enough for his little angel, but I had a talk with him and he's come around to my point of view."

Hermione sighed, relieved. "Thanks, mum."

"Come on, they'll be waiting."

They walked through into the kitchen, where Dumbledore and Minerva were stood by the fire talking to John, and Severus was still sat at the table. 

"All you need to do is touch it and it will transport you," Dumbledore was explaining, holding an inconspicuous looking vase out to her parents.

"Molly's not going to be happy at you using that as a Portkey," Minerva muttered.

Dumbledore ignored her and performed the necessary charms. Helen and John both hugged Hermione, and Helen received a few presumably reassuring words from Minerva. John crossed the room to stand over Snape.

"I'm trusting you, Severus, with my one and only daughter. Be assured if anything should happen to her…"

"Mr Granger, I am not going to hurt Hermione," he replied smoothly. He controlled his surprise when the man offered a hand, and stood and shook it. John looked at him steadily, then nodded and joined his wife. 

Last goodbyes were said and Helen and John reached out and touched the vase. Dumbledore lowered the wards and in a split second, they disappeared.

The two older adults exited the room in quiet conversation, but Hermione continued to stay rooted to the spot, staring at the place on the floor where her parents had been stood mere moments before.

She sighed heavily, missing her parents already. Loneliness began to creep through her, cold and agonising. That is until a warm, firm hand came to rest on her shoulder. From the minimal contact, her fears melted away, strengthened simply knowing that he was there. 

"Well, on the good side," Hermione said quietly after a few moments, her voice low and quiet, "at least dad doesn't want to kill you."

Severus gave her a sidelong look. "That was nice?"

"Well, all he wants to do is castrate you slowly and painfully with his dental equipment, but that's almost normal."

"I'd hate to see what he like to people he does hate."

Hermione's lips curved into a smile. "Yes, yes you would."

Severus didn't reply to that. Instead, they fell back into silence, their bodies subconsciously coming closer together. He squeezed her shoulder gently, reassuring her the best that he could, and was rewarded when he felt her slowly relax under his touch. She glanced up at him and met his gaze with a smile of calm and gratitude.

- - -

Thanks to everyone that has read and reviewed :)


	12. Chapter Twelve

  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing… 

Summary:_ "And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need."_ How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own.

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twelve**

"Ron, I want you to talk to your brothers, get them to do us a good price for the catering, food, drinks and all that. Malfoy," Hermione said, "I trust you'll be able to use your, ah, contacts to get us a good band."

"Of course," he said smugly, and Hermione held back a look of disgust.

"Right, Valentine's Day isn't really that far away, so we need everything done as soon as possible. If there are any problems, just come and see me or Anthony."

The group of prefects nodded and dispersed out of the old classroom, apart from Ron and the Ravenclaw Head Boy, Anthony Goldtstein.

"Hurry up, Hermione," Ron mumbled as she gathered the Valentine's Ball posters into a neat pile. She rolled her eyes; ever since she had blown up at them, Harry and Ron had tried especially hard to be there for her. All the time, it seemed.

"You don't have to wait for me," she replied, spying Anthony hovering nearby. Ron shrugged.

"Fine then. I'll be up in the common room."

When he had disappeared, Hermione leant back against a nearby desk and raised an eyebrow at Anthony.

"Is there a problem?"

"What? No. No problem, it's just…" He shifted uncomfortably, a slow blush rising up his cheeks. "I was wondering if… if-"

"Yes?"

"If you'd like to go to the ball with me," he said hurriedly. He looked at her intently for any signs of acceptance or rejection. "I understand if you don't want to. It's just that you're really smart and nice and I just thought that- never mind. I'll go now."

"Anthony, wait." Hermione placed a hand on his arm to stop him. He wasn't bad looking, he was clever, he was funny, he was kind. An acceptance of his offer was on the tip of her tongue, but she found herself shaking her head. "I- I can't right now."

"Oh." He frowned, then realisation crossed his features. "Oh, okay. I thought you'd broken up. Sorry."

Hermione looked at him in confusion for a moment before it dawned on her.

"Ron and I? We're no longer together. It's just… It's complicated right now, and I would love to go with you, but…"

"But it's complicated?"

"Yeah." Hermione looked at him guiltily. He shrugged his shoulders and bowed his head. "I'm sorry. Really. Hey, I know, why don't you ask Susan? I'm pretty sure she'd like to go to the Ball with you."

"What? Really?" The shy smile had returned to his face and Hermione nodded.

"Men," she said with mock exasperation. "You can be so blind sometimes."

"Thanks, Hermione. Wow. Yeah. I'll go and ask her," he grinned.

"Good. Hey, save me a dance, won't you?"

"Of course. And if- if you ever want to talk or go to Hogsmeade, as friends, then I'm always here."

Hermione smiled at the sweet gesture, and although she thought it unlikely she'd take him up on the offer, she agreed and watched him hurry out of the room to find Susan. She was about to bend down to pick up her bag, when a voice interrupted.

"That was very kind of you, Miss Granger."

Hermione started at Dumbledore's voice and looked up to see him standing casually in the doorway.

"Professor," she said with a slight nod, and stood up. She put the stack of posters in her bag and slung it over her shoulder, and joined Dumbledore out in the corridor.

"Would you like to walk?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, thinking of all of her work that needed to be finished, but thought it best not to refuse the headmaster and accepted. They walked to the Entrance Hall and out onto the great sweeping lawn in silence. The February sun managed to pierce the clouds, and the lake rippled under the light breeze.

"How is everything going?"

"I'm guessing you're not talking about the Ball," she sighed quietly. "Everything's… completely crazy. Severus and I are getting there, though. Although, at the moment, I'm not exactly sure where 'there' is."

"You call him Severus?" Dumbledore questioned lightly.

"Looking at our present and supposed future status, it'd be a bit more than stupid for me to still call him Professor," she muttered.

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore said, yet Hermione doubted that he had failed to catch what she had said.

"What we have to do means we have to go beyond the strict teacher-pupil barrier," she said carefully, and ignored his quirked eyebrow begging her to elaborate. "What exactly did you bring me out here to talk about?"

"All that time with Severus seems to have honed your people reading skills," he mused.

"And all that time with him is making me incredibly cynical. What's the matter?"

The headmaster chuckled lightly, but continued in a serious voice, "It appears the Malfoys are getting suspicious. I am not suggesting that you stop your visits to Severus, as I am sure that is out of the question, but I want you to employ more caution."

"I've been as subtle as I possibly can. I only stay behind on school nights under the pretence of my extra potions."

"And when you leave to go into his quarters?"

"Research. Using his library – against his pleasure of course – since he won't let the books out of his quarters."

"Sometimes even the best plans and alibis go wrong, though," he said, and for a moment his eyes darkened as ghosts from the past refreshed their torment. "When you go to Gryffindor Tower, there is a passageway behind an old tapestry in one of the disused corridors."

"There isn't," Hermione said, perplexed. "There wasn't one on the Marauder's Map when Harry gave it to you."

"No, and that would be because the castle has only just made it. The passageway will take you, Severus, Minerva and I to the dungeons where no one will see you. Anybody else that finds it and enters will find themselves reappearing further down the corridor."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, full of gratitude.

"It's the least I can do. If you need anything else to further the task along, then I will do my best to help, no questions asked."

"Thank you," she repeated. She was about to return to the castle, but a sudden thought struck her. "Professor, you didn't seem that surprised about the Oracle and everything. Have- Have you ever been visited?"

Dumbledore straightened his back and looked down his nose at the young woman stood before him.

"A long time ago," he replied quietly.

Hermione bit her lip to bury all the questions bubbling to the surface and, with a quick smile at Dumbledore, she retraced their steps back to the castle. Dumbledore stood watching her retreating back, and couldn't help but wonder how one that was barely out of childhood could take so much. He just hoped she was ready to take the next visitation. What the Oracle would show her in her vision would probably make her re-evaluate her measure of evil.

- - -

Hermione rolled her eyes as all the Gryffindor girls hurried about in giggling groups, discussing their dresses, boys, robes, makeup, hair, boys, shoes, boys, handbags, accessories, and boys. It was Valentine's Day, and the atmosphere was rife with adolescent hormones. The boys were no better; they could often be found having bets on who would "get laid" later on in the night.

Hermione found solace from the madness as she soaked in the bath, which saw her applying copious amounts of Sleakeazy's, and she was soon pulling on her crimson dress robes, almost ready to go. She put in her earrings and tweaked her hair, ignoring the fact that she was no better than the girls all around her, and made her way down the stairs into the common room. Harry let out a low whistle and grinned as Hermione joined him and Ginny.

"Oh, shut up, Harry," she said, but her smile widened. "So, um, where's Ron?"

"Upstairs getting ready," Harry said grimly. "I don't think he likes the idea of going to the Ball alone. Not that I'm going to try and get you back with him," he added when her saw her smile falter.

"So, who are you going with?" Ginny asked, trying to lighten the mood once more. "You've been awfully secretive lately, sneaking off and everything. Someone secret?"

Harry scowled slightly of the top of Ginny's head and Hermione shook her own.

"I'm going on my own. And you are not going to try and set me up with anyone. No, Ginny."

"I didn't even say anything!"

"You were thinking it."

"Okay, maybe I was, but still…" Ginny trailed off, grinning impishly.

"Ready?" Ron said, having finally emerged from upstairs. The four of them stepped out of the portrait hole, Harry and Ginny together, and Hermione and Ron on either side, careful not to stray too close at such a romantic time.

Severus, having practically been forced at wand point to attend, was already sat at the High Table when Hermione entered the hall. He grimaced at the hormonal children all around him and at the unlucky passers by. When Hermione passed, though, next to her friends, smiling and laughing, a strange feeling took precedence over his internal cursing.

Lust, maybe; she had made an effort to tame that bushy hair, and the robes managed to show off what body she had. No, Snape thought, since lusting after a student was certainly a thing he condemned. Perhaps he was jealous. After all, it had been a long time since he'd made a woman laugh with such mirth.

His lips twisted into a scowl. What he wouldn't give to be allowed to brood on his own downstairs. Perhaps Minerva and Albus wouldn't notice if he took leave. He glanced sideways at the pair, deep in discussion, and wondered how their relationship managed to be kept a secret.

Glaring at anything and everything, he sighed and took a large swig of his drink.

- - -

Hermione looked up to find Anthony stood, hand outstretched.

"My lady, may I have this dance?"

Hermione snorted but placed her hand in his.

"Of course, kind Sir," she said and they walked out to the middle of the hall and began to dance to the upbeat tempo of the music.

"How's your date?" Hermione asked, and received a huge grin in reply. "That good?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Hermione."

"For what exactly? All I did was give you a nudge."

"Yeah, but us men are so blind sometimes, aren't we?" Anthony laughed

Up at the High Table, Severus' mood wasn't getting any better. He spotted Hermione dancing with one of the other boys in her year, deep in conversation, and set his drink down. There was no reason to stay. The only remotely likely person for him to engage in conversation with was dancing about with little boys. Without an excuse, he stood up from his chair and swept out of the hall.

The song ended and Anthony rejoined Susan, and Hermione sat back down with Harry, Ginny and Ron. Her eyes travelled down the High Table of their own accord, searching for Severus. She had felt him watching her for most of the night, but he had disappeared during the previous song.

However, she was distracted from this by Ginny dragging a reluctant Harry up to dance, leaving Hermione alone with Ron.

"Do you- Do you want to dance?" Ron asked meekly.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she replied softly, a sad smile her apology.

Ron nodded and turned to watch all the couples dancing. Hermione folded her arms, uncomfortable in the silence, then watched on as a sixth year Hufflepuff approached the table.

"Hey, Ron. Wanna dance?" she asked. Ron looked guiltily at Hermione for a split second, but agreed and led her out into the throng. The song changed to a slower, romantic dance, and Hermione, being one of the few sat down alone, stood and made what she hoped was an inconspicuous exit.

She was almost at the portrait hole when she remembered the passage down to the dungeons. She somehow didn't think that Severus would be asleep, so took a detour down the corridor. She found a tapestry with what appeared to be a snake wrapped around an apple tree and took a moment to study it in wry humour, then peeled it away from the wall. With a quick glance around, she illuminated the dark with her wand and stepped into the passageway and moved along it, arm outstretched. Her fingers soon brushed against another tapestry, and she carefully pushed it aside, then slipped out into the corridor.

"I love magic," she muttered, and scanned around looking for a clue as to where exactly she was. She continued down the corridor, and found the door to Severus' rooms.

At the knock, Severus flung the door open, prepared to shout, when he noticed who it was.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"Hello, Severus, I'm fine thanks."

He scowled at her but moved aside to let her enter. He sank back down in his chair and took another swig of his Firewhiskey.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. You are such a pessimist," Hermione said.

"And that's never going to change. You didn't answer my question."

"Oh, I don't know. I just thought I could come and share my company with someone who hates Valentine's Day more than I do."

"Perhaps it would be more pleasant for you if you had someone to enjoy the day with."

"Fine then. Come here."

Severus raised an eyebrow at her order. She was stood in the middle of the room, resolution on her face.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see if it's more pleasant if we 'enjoy' it together," she replied, bolder than she felt. Severus looked at her steadily.

"And what do you plan on doing?"

"Do you always have to be so awkward?" she cried.

"Yes."

"Honestly! Severus, dance with me."

For a moment, Hermione was sure he was going to laugh, but, after a moment, Severus stood up and joined her.

"But we have no music," he pointed out.

"The music from upstairs is still pounding through my head."

"I have to agree," he replied, and took her into his arms in the traditional dance pose.

They began to revolve on the spot, slightly uncomfortable in the unfamiliar positions. Slowly, Hermione loosened up, and she found herself leaning against his chest with his arms around her. She smiled even further when she realised he was relaxed too.

Severus must have noticed for he pulled back slightly and asked, "What are you grinning at?"

"I'm just… enjoying this more than I though I would."

"Oh really?" he asked, and his lips flickered into a smile. He lifted her hand above her head and twirled her slowly on the spot, causing her to laugh. "You look nice."

"I see the standard male quotation device has kicked in."

"I mean it. And when did you become so cynical?" he added.

"I wish people would stop asking me that," she muttered.

"Ah, yes, Albus told me about your talk. He also mentioned one Ravenclaw prefect asking you to the dance." Severus quirked a questioning eyebrow and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I bet he just slipped that into conversation … He asked me to the Ball, but I said no and told him to ask one of the other girls."

He spun her round again and asked, "Why didn't you accept his offer."

"Because… well… With all that's going on, it didn't feel right," Hermione shrugged.

"Why? Because you are too busy?"

"No… It's just that… With what we're supposed to do, it felt wrong. Like I should-" She stopped, frowning.

"Yes?"

"Like I should be with you," she said eventually. "You think I'm an idiot now, don't you?" she added, rolling her eyes.

He thought over what she had said. He had to agree; he didn't like the idea of her going off with other men either. His possessive streak had flared up when he saw her dance with the various boys and he was angered, yet having her to himself now rectified that.

"You are many things, but an idiot isn't one of them," he said. "I just never looked at it that way before." He looked down at the woman in his arms.

"It's so strange, the thought of you and I together," Hermione whispered. "It doesn't feel as if it's true. It's so surreal."

Severus lifter her chin with his finger and said, "You look and feel rather real to me."

"Oh, you know what I mean."

Severus, usually one to carefully plan ahead and think of every possible outcome, allowed himself to cave in to impulse and, to Hermione's surprise, bent his head down to hers and kissed her. Her shock soon turned to pleasure, though, as she found herself reciprocating the gentle kiss.

"That was unexpected," she whispered eventually, and idly wondered when exactly her arms became entwined around his neck.

"Well, I try to do something unexpected once every decade."

She threw her head back and laughed, revealing the skin of her neck to the light, and Severus didn't even bother to fight the urge to kiss the tender flesh there. Hermione closed her eyes as his lips traced light patterns over her collarbone, up her neck and to her ear, laughing softly as he found a sensitive spot.

"Potions lessons will never be the same again," Hermione said, though she couldn't restrain a grin.

"That can only be a good thing," Severus drawled. He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, for once dismayed at the late hour.

Hermione followed his gaze and groaned. "I'm going to have to go."

Severus nodded, and they proceeded to untangle themselves from each other. With a last kiss, she stepped away from him and walked to the door. Before she left she whispered, "Goodnight, Severus."

"Goodnight, Hermione," he replied, but before he opened the door to let her go, he added with a smile, "Sweet dreams."

"Oh," she replied, slightly breathless, "I've no doubt about that."

- - -

Thanks to everyone that's read and reviewed :)


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Thirteen **

After the Half Term break, the workload returned with a vengeance. It was with a tired body and an exhausted mind that Hermione descended down the steps into the dungeons and into her potions class. Harry and Ron sat down next to her and they all took out their books and quills, ready for Snape to arrive.

He swept into the room and the lesson began. After the standard orders, Hermione went to collect the potions ingredients from the cupboard, not trusting the boys to get the best available. With a barely imperceptible smile at her professor, Hermione set about making the latest potion from the syllabus.

"I think Snape's in a better mood," Ron whispered to Harry a few minutes into the lesson. "Must have got laid."

Hermione choked at the comment, trying to stifle her horrified laughter, and resulted in drawing Severus' attention.

"Miss Granger, kindly choke to death in your own time," he said, glaring at her.

"Yes, Professor." The slight emphasis on his title caused him to narrow his eyes in warning, but he soon continued his scrutiny of the different concoctions from the class.

"Now, your potions should be ready to bottle and leave over night. _Should_. I see a few of you have failed today's exercise," he drawled as the end of the practical part of the lesson neared. Next to Hermione, Ron and Harry shared uneasy looks, whilst her potion was as near to perfect as possible. "Collect a bottle from the front and ladle a sample of the potion in for further testing tomorrow. Label them correctly and put them in the cupboard."

The class followed his orders and returned to their seat, knowing what was coming next. They sat prepared for the lecture, ready to take notes from his rapid dictation. He began to pace the rows, and started his talk.

His words filled the air, but Hermione couldn't concentrate. She glanced back over her notes and noticed with surprise that Harry and Ron had both written more than she had. She shook her head and rested it on her hand, desperate to keep the tiredness at bay.

"…The different properties of the ingredients can sometimes … which results in a volatile combination … handled with care. You must not, under any circumstances…"

Hermione jolted, and realised she must have dozed off. Next to her, Harry looked up from his scribbling and raised an eyebrow. She smiled at him and he returned to his work.

"Another feature of this plant that cannot be obtained from any other ingredient … particularly useful in complex restorative…"

Hermione's eyelids fluttered closed and she sighed heavily. Sleep overtook her, despite how hard she fought it, and soon she was oblivious to the world.

The loud thud as she hit the floor was the only thing that could have stopped Snape's speech. He froze and turned to the source of the noise, and quirked an eyebrow at the empty place.

"Potter, what on earth is going on?" he snapped.

Harry popped his head over the table, and Severus didn't like the look of worry on his face.

"It's Hermione, Sir, she- I don't know… she collapsed."

In a few strides he was by her on the floor. She was on her back, seemingly asleep, but her eyes were darting around under their lids, and her features creased in what looked like fear.

"Class dismissed. Get out." In a matter of seconds all the students had left. They may have wanted to watch as if it was some macabre and gory accident, but not even satisfying their curiosity was worth receiving Snape's wrath. "Potter, Weasley, I believe that meant you too."

"We're not leaving Hermione," Harry said.

"Someone needs to get Madam Pomfrey. Look, Potter, do you want to help her or not? Go and fetch Madam Pomfrey, and Weasley, fetch Professor McGonagall."

"And what are you going to do?" Harry challenged.

"I'll take her into my quarters. It's a much better place than a dungeon floor," Severus replied through clenched teeth. _Getting angry will not help her, _he reminded himself.

"You're not taking her back to your rooms. God knows what you'll do to her!"

"What are you accusing me of, Potter?" Severus said slowly.

"Come on, Harry. He's not worth it. We need to help Hermione," Ron said quietly. Harry looked taken aback by his friend's reprimand, but stood.

"If anything happens-"

"Potter! Go."

He watched as Harry and Ron left the dungeons, still throwing back dirty glances as they ran. When they had gone, he knelt beside her. She clenched her fists and squirmed slightly, and her face contorted into a frown. She had looked tired in his lesson, but this was no dream. He was willing to bet anything that she was in her second vision. And it hardly looked good.

He never even thought of using a spell, but scooped her cautiously into his arms and carefully made his way to his quarters. He placed her down on his bed, thinking it would be the best place for her to be treated, and unbuttoned her cloak. He threw it at the bottom of the bed and sat down at her side.

"First time in my bed and you're unconscious," he muttered darkly, and pulled a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.

"Severus?"

"In here," he called out to Poppy, and to his displeasure, Harry followed.

"What happened?" Poppy asked, pulling out her wand to perform a few preliminary tests.

"She fell off her stool in my lesson," Severus said quietly, doing his best to exclude Harry from the conversation.

"She looks terrified," Poppy uttered, then looked to Severus for an explanation. He just returned her eye contact, silently conveying not to ask too many questions. She frowned but nodded. "You two, wait outside whilst I treat her."

She ushered Harry and Severus out into his quarters and closed the door. The two males stood staring at each other. Both looked as if they would love nothing better than to curse the other into oblivion.

The dwindling fire burst into life and Minerva stepped out of the green flames, soon followed by Ron.

"Severus? What the- What is going on?" she said, voice as reasonable as possible.

He threw a look of disgust at Harry and joined Minerva by the fire.

"She fell off one of the stools in my class," he said.

"She fell off a stool?" Minerva repeated slowly, and raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Severus, what aren't you telling me?"

"When- I was visited by the Oracle, then I had the vision about Mr and Mrs Granger being attacked. I believe Hermione is having her second vision," he informed her quietly.

"What is the purpose of it? Why two?" Minerva asked, shaking her head.

"I'm not entirely sure. The first was with the Oracle herself, the second… Perhaps it is to show us what we need to change."

"And what do you need to change?"

"Minerva," he said dangerously. "You know I cannot say."

"I know, I know, I just wish I could understand what's happening so I can help," she sighed. "Where is she?"

"In my bed," he replied, somewhat disgruntled. "It was either that or leave her on the floor."

"The Infirmary?"

"Here was closer. Poppy's in there now."

Minerva folded her arms across her chest and eyed her two students stood on the other side of the room, talking quietly.

"Why do I get the feeling you only sent Potter and Weasley to get us so you could get them out of the way?"

"Because I only sent Potter and Weasley to get you so I could get them out of the way," he drawled. He shuddered at the realisation that the two banes of his existence were stood in his quarters.

"No, you're not throwing them out," Minerva said, guessing what was going through his mind, and received a glare off the younger professor. She continued to study him, and saw the worry in his eyes as he stared into the fire. "You really care about her, don't you," she whispered.

He snapped his head up to face her.

"What?"

"You know what I said."

He shifted uncomfortably and said diplomatically, "I don't have a lot of choice but to care about her." He snorted at the witch's face. "Why do you look so pained about that?"

"Severus-"

"No. Am I not good enough for your precious student? Do you think I'll hurt her?"

Minerva took a step closer and hissed fiercely, "Severus Snape, I am coming _this_ close to hexing you. The only thing I feel pained about is the fact that I can't do anything to help you. Get over your so-not-worthy complex and start to realise that people do actually care about you."

"Bad day?" he asked, but looked mildly chastised as he said it.

"And getting worse," she said, and rubbed a hand over her face. "And don't tell me to relax."

"As if I would. Contrary to popular belief, I don't have a death wish."

"Severus," Poppy called. He turned to see her and she motioned him over.

"What is it?" he asked, stepping inside and closing the door.

"I've healed the cut on the back of her head and sorted out her concussion, but… You seem to know why she actually fell off the stool in the first place. If that'll help me treat her…"

"I can't tell you, Poppy, trust me," he said grimly.

"Just look at her. I've done all I can, and she should be fine, eating with the other students at dinner, but instead she's unconscious. What happened?"

Severus looked down his nose at the medi-witch, her hands resting on her hips, lips thinned.

"Fine, then, don't tell me, but if she gets any worse, on your head be it!" She spun on the spot and practically stormed from the room.

He sat down on the chair Poppy had placed by the bed and watched Hermione. She was almost motionless apart from the light rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, and the odd twist as if she was trying to escape from invisible bonds.

"Hermione," he whispered, "wake up. I hope it's not as bad as I think it is."

- - -

_Blood tinged the air, warm and tangy, so much you could taste it. Darkness shrouded the castle, and not just the lack of light. Darkness… evil… it clung everywhere, in the shadows, all over the land. _

_The moon cast long shadows over the grounds. People, students, friends, teachers; their bodies scattered carelessly on the ground. They hardly mattered now. And besides, they were the lucky ones. Pools of blood shimmered in the silver light that pierced the clouds, just as screams penetrated the night._

_The skeletal figure at the top of the hill threw his head back and laughed. A shrill high laugh that sent shivers up the bystanders' spines. Bystanders, hardly, Death Eaters, definitely. With a wave of his hand, his subjects were summoned, each bringing a child. A mere child, a naked, suffering little girl, no match for the Dark Lord. _

_And now the name Lord was not in vain. As far as the living were concerned, he was now God, the being that held their fates in his hands. _

"_Are you sure they are pure?" he asked. His followers nodded and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor. "Then let us begin."_

_Charms sent them up into the air, each suspended on an invisible crucifix. Jagged blades glinted ominously in the faint light, taunting of the victims' close release. Knife raised, poised for action, then the swish of the blade through the air. _

_The night grew red, blood flowed unhindered, screams grew weak. And all the while, as the precious red liquid seeped from the bodies, Death Eaters obediently captured the blood. And all the while, their leader watched on._

_The collected blood, precious blood, was poured into a silver chalice. The Dark Lord swirled the rich liquid, inspecting it, finding no faults._

"_Tonight, I will be pure," he yelled. His voice echoed throughout the night. "Tonight, my reign begins."_

_He bowed his head to the chalice and raised it to meet his lips. Trusted followers murmured unfamiliar words of a long lost incantation as he slowly drank the blood._

_Throwing the empty cup to the earth, he threw back his head and repeated the incantations, finishing off the ceremony. His breathing was heavy as the power flowed through his body. Red blood trickled down from the sides of his mouth, odd against the white. His eyes flashed black, a cruel contrast to his skin._

"_I am," he yelled, "Lord Voldemort."_

- - -

She stirred, and her head thrashed from one side to the other before she took in a harsh breath and froze. The noise was enough to alert Poppy and she quickly entered the room. She took a couple of readings from her patient, nodded to Severus, and stepped out of the room

"She's waking up."

The others turned to look at the nurse, relief flooding through their veins, and followed her back into the room. Harry rushed to her side, immediately bending down to kneel next to her. Her body stretched out whilst a trembling hand raised slightly in the air, and Harry almost reached out to hold it, but one uttered word was enough to make him recoil.

"Severus?"

- - -

Thanks for reading:0D


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.**   
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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Severus?"

Of all the things that had happened in his life, he wished Hermione muttering his name wasn't one of them. Poppy looked scandalised, Minerva's lips had thinned, Ron had paled and his skin now clashed horribly with his hair, and Harry… Harry looked murderous.

"Now, could you all vacate the room. I need to see to my patient," Poppy ordered, but her calm voice was forced. They left with some reluctance, but before the door slammed shut, Severus met Hermione's bleary gaze. Her terrified, sorrowful, overwhelmed gaze.

"Oh, so it's Severus now? What the bloody hell is going on?" Harry yelled. This time, his friend came to his side.

"How are you going to explain this?" Ron asked. "Or maybe you'll tell us," he added, looking at Minerva.

She folded her arms across her chest and considered her next words, but before she could say anything, Severus, Harry and Ron opened their mouths to continue the argument.

"Severus," she said quietly but firmly, "this isn't helping. Harry, Ron, shut up and sit down." She watched them as they sat down on the sofa, but Harry couldn't contain himself.

"Professor, you can't seriously be okay with what's going on!"

"And what is 'going on', Harry?" Minerva questioned.

"Why don't you ask _him_ that," he said through gritted teeth at Severus. Minerva turned slightly to see her colleague.

"Severus, perhaps you can tell me."

He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to deduce which side she was on. She raised an eyebrow and the intensity of her gaze grew.

"We have been working together. She has been helping me on various projects," he said carefully.

"That doesn't explain the first name basis," Ron said. Minerva turned back to Severus, waiting for an answer. She wasn't making this any easier.

"Whilst brewing these potions, trust is just as important as competence. Miss Granger is by far the best student in the school, and she was more than willing to spend her evenings furthering her knowledge in my field," he said. "The potions can be volatile, and our faith in the other's ability is crucial." He sneered slightly and said softly, "There aren't many ways for me to gain trust, so I have to use the ways I have."

He saw with pleasure the effect the insinuation had on Harry, and stubbornly ignored Minerva's glare.

"I trust nothing… inappropriate went on between the two of you," Minerva said.

"Nothing at all," Severus replied, their first kiss immediately coming to mind. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see how long it will be before I can have my rooms back."

He knocked on the door and Poppy opened it and let him in, even if it was reluctantly.

"She was asking for you," Poppy said, an undeniable trace of accusation, tainted curiosity, in her voice.

"Was?"

"She wouldn't calm down so I gave her a small dose of Sleeping Draught." Severus sighed in annoyance, and she added, "What else would you have me do? She was thrashing uncontrollably at one point. She was a danger to herself!"

"So why didn't you come and get one of us?"

"I think you've done enough, Professor," she said tartly.

"Thank you for reminding me of my position at the school, Poppy, and I assure you I have done nothing that wouldn't befit it."

The medi-witch stiffened slightly as she put all her medicinal equipment back into her bag.

"I sure hope you haven't," she replied quietly. Straightening, bag in hand, her usual demeanour returned and she continued, "Now, she should wake up in an hour or so, and she should be calmer."

"And you're just going to leave her here?" he asked when she didn't continue.

"Well, she seems perfectly happy here," she said. "There's no sense in moving her at the moment, especially as that would mean her waking up in a different environment than when she went to sleep and probably upsetting her again. I would like her to stay the night in the Infirmary, though. I'm sure you'll help her up when she is fully awake." She moved to the door, and added, "Send for me if there are any problems. I'll go and make up a spare bed."

She left to tell the others of Hermione's condition. He could hear voices through the door, and he desperately wished they would finally leave his private sanctuary. He opened the door slightly to hear the conversation in which Minerva was ordering the boys to go to their common room.

"Go back to Gryffindor Tower. There are no objections to you seeing her later in the Infirmary, but I think you have invaded Professor Snape's personal space enough."

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed, doing a bad job of keeping his voice down. "He's in there alone with her in his bedroom! He-"

"Potter! I trust Professor Snape, and that is the end that. If you do not leave now, I will order you out."

"But-"

"No, Weasley. Didn't you take in anything Hermione said to you? Teamwork, leaving all prejudice behind… All of that is important beyond belief, and I will not tolerate two little boys telling me whom I can and cannot trust. I trust him, and apparently so does Hermione. Don't you trust her judgement?" She let the statement sink in, then continued, "I will stay here until she wakes, then she will be escorted to Madam Pomfrey. You can see her then. In the meantime, you will wait in Gryffindor Tower. Understood? _Understood?_"

"Yes, Professor," they muttered in unison. Snape heard her cross the room and throw the door open for them.

"I hope I do not need to lecture you on not using anything you have – or think you have – learned today to do anything questionable," she said dryly. She two boys shared a quick, almost incredulous look, but nodded and left under her heavy gaze. "You can stop hiding now, Severus."

"I would hardly call it hiding," he said, but stepped out from his bedroom.

"How is she?"

"Asleep," he replied shortly. He closed the door behind him. "Tea?"

"Coffee, please," she replied with a tired smile of thanks as she sank down in her seat. She shielded her eyes from the world as Severus made the drinks, and she sighed heavily. "If it isn't Harry it's someone else."

"This was hardly her choice," Severus said, and handed a steaming mug to his colleague.

"Thanks," she murmured as she clasped her fingers around the cup. "So. You think this was a vision?"

"Yes, I do." He shook his head. "She was terrified, and that can only mean that what she saw wasn't good."

"Poor thing," she muttered. "I can't imagine what it must be like to know something of our future, but not be able to share that knowledge." She cocked her head to one side. "You told us of your vision, of how the Grangers were going to be attacked. Why must she keep it a secret?"

He sat silent for a moment, contemplating her words, then said, "I can't be accurate as I don't know the nature of Hermione's vision, but mine was close to the time I saw the events, and was already underway. Perhaps hers maybe the same, or maybe it is over a long space of time. If it is drawn out, then the more people told would result in a greater difference between our reality and the one the Oracle saw."

Minerva nodded slowly and took a sip of her drink. She smiled devilishly as she tasted an edge of something alcoholic.

"And what now?"

"Now we wait," Severus said. "Our actions depend on what she saw. I can only hope it wasn't too appalling a possible future."

They descended into contemplative silence, until a loud crash from the other room startled them both. They stood quickly and Severus hurried into his room, the first thing he noticed being the smashed glass in a puddle of water on the floor.

"Hermione," he whispered. She whimpered gently as tears streamed down her cheeks. He rounded the bed to sit beside her and she easily slid into his arms and buried her face in his chest.

At the door, Minerva stood watching them. She observed her student and colleague, and Severus was expecting at least a comment, but she nodded in acceptance and left them alone.

"That bad?"

"Worse," Hermione choked. Severus pulled her even closer into his embrace and held her as her sobbing body calmed down. The shaking slowly began to subside and the tears eventually ceased to fall. Her hair was plastered to her moist cheeks, and he traced a finger around her face to reveal her skin.

"What did you see?" he asked after a while.

"Death. Evil. The war… we lost, we lost everything… we were dying, most dead, and Vold-"

"Hush," he said, cutting across her increasingly frantic voice, and simply held her to him. "That is not our future."

"It felt so real. The- The pain, the blood… I could taste it, Severus. And the screams-"

"Hermione, listen to me." His voice hardened as he spoke, "That is not our future. We were shown these visions to stop those terrible things from happening."

"But how am I supposed to stop them? How?" she cried.

He could only answer honestly.

"I don't know." He raised her head so her teary eyes met his. "But I do know this: you are strong, intelligent and you won't let this beat you. We _will _find a way to stop it."

"But _how_?"

"We'll find a way."

She let her head loll onto his shoulder and slowly relaxed in his arms, and smiled slightly when he placed a gentle kiss on her temple.

"How's your head?"

"Hurting like hell, but I don't think it's just the concussion," she muttered.

"Madam Pomfrey wants you to spend the night in the hospital wing."

"And what about Harry and Ron?"

"Lets just say they were very pissed and very inquisitive about you calling me by my first name."

After a few seconds, the memory caught up with Hermione and she groaned and asked, "What did you tell them?"

"The truth," he said simply. "That we have been working together, and to gain the necessary trust we had to build something of a working relationship."

"Sometimes I think it would be easier to just tell the real truth… and then I realise what I'd have to tell them."

"Is it that bad an idea? Being with me?" Severus said after a few moments. His voice was soft, but belied the real concern behind his words.

"No, Severus," Hermione replied, real conviction in her eyes as she turned to look at him properly. "No, it isn't. Not anymore, at least… But for them it is."

He reached out and wiped her tears away.

"I'm not sure how, but we're going to get through this."

"We?" Hermione laughed, although there wasn't any humour in her voice.

"Well, we are in this together, whatever 'this' may be," he replied evenly.

She took in a deep shuddering breath and sighed heavily.

"I- I have to keep this a secret… I can't tell anyone, can I?"

"You can tell me," he said.

She shook her head vehemently. The weight of the darkness was shrouding her, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of death, of knowing a fate that could befall them all. She looked up into Severus' eyes, no longer amazed to find traces of warmth there, no longer scared to be in his arms.

"Not- Not right now…" Her voice was still shaky and her face was pale, and he studied her for a moment.

"Madam Pomfrey will be waiting," he said, thinking it time to change the subject. "Are you ready to go?"

"I guess so," she said, although Severus noted an edge of reluctance. He slipped off the bed and held out his hand. Hers were clammy as he helped her stand, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. Slowly, he guided her into his living room and over to Minerva.

The older witch looked up from her second coffee and, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, Severus saw an expression of unease flit across her features. She stood, unsettled at the sight, but tried to quell the reaction.

"How are you feeling?" she asked Hermione.

"I've felt better," Hermione muttered.

"Was it- Was it a vision?"

Severus nodded and saw the colour drain from Minerva's face as she inspected the state of her student. Hermione's body was week and her face was white, but her eyes were distant, haunted, and that scared her.

"I think she'd better go up to the hospital wing," Minerva said, taking control.

"The Floo powder's in the small black jar," Severus said.

"You want to Floo her? In this state?"

"Something tells me it would be better than walking all that way." He could still feel her shaking, and she leant heavily against him, exhausted.

He watched Minerva pull down the small black jar and turn the fire green.

"I think you'd better take her," Severus said, although it was clear he wished otherwise, and Minerva nodded. Hermione relinquished her hold on Severus, and allowed her Head of House to steady her.

Whilst Minerva called out their destination to the fire, Hermione and Severus shared a quick glance. No words were said, but the strength and support in his eyes, willingly given, were enough to ensure that she at least made it through the night with the burden that she carried.

- - -

Eek, I know I've been terrible about getting chapters out! Darn real life. I'll try and be more regular! Thanks for reading.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.**   
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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Fifteen**

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"Madam Pomfrey, I'm fine!" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation, pulling at the plain white pyjamas of the hospital wing.

"You are not, Miss Granger," the nurse replied. "Now lie back down and rest!"

"I don't need to rest. I'm missing my lessons and I don't want to fall behind. All this work to do, so much work, you know." She hurriedly heaped her clothes into a pile then clutched them to her chest. She was about to stride out of the Infirmary when she spotted Dumbledore standing placidly, blocking her way.

"I think it would be wise if you got back in bed, don't you?" he said gently.

Hermione frowned and seemed to realise what she was about to do. She blinked and dropped her clothes back on the chair by her bed and clambered back in between the sheets, a dazed expression still on her face.

After one look from the Headmaster, Madam Pomfrey disappeared back into her office, and the old wizard seated himself by his student.

"Now, Miss Granger, how about you and I have a little chat?"

Hermione pulled the sheets closer around her and huddled into an even smaller ball, as if she was trying to fade away. For a long time she didn't speak, but merely gazed sightlessly into the distance, and Dumbledore waited patiently whilst she thought.

"I saw it," she croaked eventually. "I saw the final battle, with Voldemort. I saw it all – the death, the pain…" Her breath hitched and she shook her head.

"What happened?" he asked earnestly, leaning forward in his chair.

"You know I can't tell you," she whispered. "I know what's going to happen, and I can't do anything about it."

Dumbledore felt the chilling tendrils of shock run through him as he noted the vulnerability in her voice, the hunch of her shoulders, the desolate expression on her face.

"Hermione," he said, leaning in closer still. "What you saw is not the future. The Oracle has chosen you for this task, to wield this information, because she knows you can change what is going to happen, whether you realise it or not."

"I don't see how, though…" She buried her face in her hands and drew in a shaky breath.

"The first time I saw the Oracle," Dumbledore began quietly, "I never thought I could do what she proposed. When I saw the second vision… I didn't understand why I had to do it, why _I_ was the one that had to change everything. Simply, it is because there is no other way." He paused for a moment, contemplating his next words, then continued, "I was nowhere as near as young as you, and yet I thought what I saw was near unbearable, at least for the time after, until I began to work on it, interpret it. Talk to Severus, don't go through this alone." He stood from his chair and smoothed the front of his deep purple robes.

He turned to go, but Hermione called him back without thinking, "Professor?"

"What is it?"

"I was just- I was wondering what you saw. What you had to do." Hermione shook her head, realising it was too much to ask. "It doesn't matter. You don't have to answer." He continued to observe her, face neutral, then took a step closer.

"When I saw the Oracle, she told me that I was to do great things in my life, that I was to accomplish incredible feats. I didn't believe her, at first, until the vision. When I was visited, it was just before war was declared. I was shown the destruction, the war, the conflict, and the downfall of our entire people. I was shown images of people, most I'd never seen before, who were to help me, although they didn't even know it. I was shown terror and chaos at their height. And to think, once upon a time, I was merely the son of a goat farmer in the countryside," he finished with a laugh, although the sound seemed forced to Hermione.

"But you did it?" she asked quietly. "Or we wouldn't be here?"

"Yes, I completed the task. Everything I did altered the possible future…"

"Although you feel you could have done more?"

"We always find more that we think we could have done, but only so much is physically possible," he replied evenly. "Whatever the outcome, Hermione, whatever our future, I am sure that it will be diverted away from a worse fate."

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly, and allowed herself a quick smile at the Professor. More questions soon came to mind, though. She frowned slightly. "Sir? Did you-"

"Yes?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm asking too many questions," Hermione apologised, shaking her head.

"What is it, Hermione?"

"You mentioned people who were to help you. Could you share what you saw with them?"

"I divulged a few facts to certain people," he replied, "but I would never fully tell of the vision to anyone."

"Does Professor McGonagall know?"

When he didn't reply straight away she feared the question sounded cheeky, too intrusive, but after a pause he said, "She was one of those few people." He bowed his head, reminiscing, remembering the tortured past.

"Professor?" Hermione asked, worried, and guilt stirred within her at asking such private questions, especially evoking such a response.

"There's always more we could do," he whispered, his mind flickering to his love, to her torment over the years. "Get some rest, child, you need it."

Hermione watched his back as he exited the hospital wing, unrest settling over her like a thick shroud.

- - -

"What do you think was going on, honestly?"

"I don't know, Ron, but I don't like it," Harry answered somewhat aggressively.

It was afternoon, not long after the last class of the day had finished. The two boys were stood at the end of Hermione's bed, unsure what to do, saved from action when she began to stir.

"Look, she's waking up," Ron said.

They stood at the end of the bed and watched Hermione stretch and peer over the covers.

"What do you want?" she asked, devoid of emotion.

"The truth."

"The truth about what?" she asked as she slowly sat up.

"You know what we mean," Ron said, though his expression seemed more regretful than hostile like that of Harry beside him.

"You and _Severus_?" Harry drawled.

"We just work together. He tutors me in advanced potions. What's the big deal?" she asked weakly.

"First name basis?"

"So what, Harry?" she said and let her head fall back against the pillow.

"He's Snape, that's what. He's evil, sadistic, cruel, and you're down there with darling _Severus_? What's going on?"

"Yes, he is cruel and sadistic at times, but he is not evil. There is absolutely nothing going on!"

"Come on, Hermione, whose side are you on?"

Hermione couldn't help it. She burst out laughing, causing Harry and Ron to look at her in shock, trying to figure out what was so funny.

"Harry Potter, whose side are _you_ on?" she asked him.

"What is that supposed to mean? I'm on the good side, the right one."

"And so is he." She lifted her pounding head up to look at Harry. "Have you not heard what I've said? We are all fighting on the same side. Why is that so hard for you to accept?"

He opened his mouth but snapped it closed again. Hermione leant back and Ron stepped up to stand by her side.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and was rewarded with a smile.

"I'll be fine, Ron. I'm just tired."

"Come on, Harry," he ordered. "Let's go and let her rest." He forcefully guided Harry away from the bed, and with a backward glance and a smile, out of the door.

She sank down back under the covers, contemplating Ron's show of friendship and solidarity, her and Dumbledore's conversation, and, no matter how much she attempted to force it out of her mind, the task ahead.

She was determined to figure out all she could from the vision, even though that meant purposefully reliving it in every detail. She shuddered at the thought and, realising she wasn't going to get back to anything resembling sleep, slid out of bed and hastily got dressed. She carefully made her way out of the infirmary without being seen and made her way to the library.

Choosing a hidden table in the corner, she piled up a heap of likely looking books, before searching in her pockets for something to take notes with. Not finding anything, she spied Anthony on a table a few bookshelves away.

"Hey."

"Hi, Hermione," he said, looking up from his book. "Are you okay?"

"What?"

"Are you okay? After potions?"

Hermione groaned and he laughed gently. "Sick of being asked?"

Taking the easy option, she just nodded and smiled at him.

"Anything I can do for you?"

"Um." She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Please can I borrow a quill? And some parchment?"

"Sure," he said, and slid some her way. "Not got yours with you?" he added with a raised, teasing eyebrow.

"They're in my dormitory and I just realised I wanted to write some notes down."

"Ah, okay then. Do you want some ink, too?"

Hermione looked at him guiltily and said, "If you don't mind."

"No, it's fine," he added, and handed her a spare pot of ink as well.

"Thanks. Right. Well, I'll see you later," she responded absently, then hurried off back to her table. Surrounded by books that shielded her off from the rest of the world, she began to write down the most poignant parts of the vision.

_Ritual for purity, blood, virgin? Full moon? Part of ceremony? Runes on chalice. Words for incantation?_

A good page of notes and ideas later, she opened one of the books, made herself comfortable, and began to read. The rest of her day was spent trawling through books, lost in a world of dark magic and rituals and horror.

- - -

"Hey, Hermione."

"Oh, hi, Harry, I didn't see you there," she replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Hermione got the feeling he had been talked into being nice by the two younger Weasleys, and since the hospital wing, he had at least tried to be civilised.

"Where are you going?" he asked. He was about to sit down for food, but frowned at her when he noticed the plate full of food left at her place. "Dinner's only just begun."

"I know," she replied, standing. "I was going to go to the library."

Harry shook his head at her and said, "Hermione, you're running yourself down. Eat, rest, get some sleep! The world isn't going to end if you don't go to the library!"

Her hesitant smile slipped and Hermione took a couple of steps away before turning on her heel and hurrying away.

"Hermione!"

He watched, confused, as she disappeared out of view. He had tried to be reasonable with her, at least to the best that he could, and yet she still didn't seem to reciprocate the attempt at normality.

He sighed and sat down at the table, contemplating Hermione, and pulled the pork chops towards him, unaware that the Headmaster, his deputy, and the loathed Potions Master were all sharing a concerned look over her too.

- - -

Minerva blinked awake, groggily trying to figure out what had disturbed her. It wasn't time to get up yet, and there didn't appear to be any sighs of disaster. Sitting up, she saw the bedroom door was slightly open, a thin pillar of light from the other room slanting across the covers. Next to her, the bed was empty.

Pulling on her dressing gown, she moved over to the door, and opened it just wide enough to see through. On the sofa in front of a low burning fire was Albus, his body hunched over, seemingly curved around the mug in his hands. He looked weary, his eyes far off and heavy, an expression that Minerva knew well.

Her mouth pressed into a thin line and she opened the door further and stepped out of the bedroom.

"Albus?"

A blink, then another, then his eyes refocused and he glanced up at her. "Oh, Minerva, my dear. I'm sorry to have woken you. You know how I get making hot chocolate!"

His false cheeriness didn't work on Minerva and she tilted her head on one side, eyeing him critically, and sighed softly. His gaze broke away from hers and his smile faltered.

"What are you thinking of, Albus?"

His bowed head instead of a response was enough confirmation for Minerva. "What has been done has been done, what has happened has happened. This whole Oracle business has you all worked up again, doesn't it? Why can you not just let things rest?" Her voice was raised, but more desperate than angry.

She moved over to him and sat beside him. She reached out to him and lightly curled her hand around his cheek. His eyes closed for a moment and his body relaxed ever so slightly. It was a gesture so familiar to them both, repeated so many times throughout the years.

"I'm worried, Minerva."

She couldn't help but start. Such a plain admission was not what she expected, and she shivered at the frankness of his voice.

"Our future is determined by the actions of children. It is not right. It is not fair."

"Give them some credit. Harry and Hermione are strong. I know I can't even begin to imagine-"

"No, you can't." Her hand withdrew and she turned away sharply, but he still managed to catch the flare of anger in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I… I apologise."

"You're always telling me that you're sorry…"

There was silence for a few minutes, until Albus finally spoke up.

"Minerva, I've been watching her," he said quietly. "She's in shock. Isolating herself from her friends, those that will help her through this. She's so focused, too focused. I can see myself in her."

She finally turned back to face him. "Things are different this time. Hermione and Severus and Harry are not alone. Despite however much you think you turned your back on people – on me – it's simply not an option for these. Both Hermione and Severus being visited by that bloody Oracle can't have been a coincidence. It may take a while for the shock to wear off, but, as past experience has taught us-" here she gently squeezed his hand "-time will help her cope."

She looked into his eyes and added quietly, "You came back to me, Albus. I wish you'd stop beating yourself up. I know you regret leaving, I know you feel you could have done more, but you came back and you changed things for the better. I forgive you. I only wish you'd forgive yourself."

She held his gaze for a few moments more, then stood and walked over to their bedroom. At the door she whispered, "Please, come back to bed."

"I will, my dear. Just give me a little time."

- - -

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"Library," Hermione said simply.

"But it's Saturday!" Ron said. "And you've finished all your homework, anyway."

"_And _you've not had any breakfast," Ginny pointed out from by the fire, eyeing her friend, noting that she had got thinner and thinner over the last week.

"I'll be fine," Hermione said airily, and exited the common room through the portrait hole.

In the library, she dumped her bag on the table she seemed to have claimed as her own, retrieved certain books, and sat down to work. She pulled out her notes, words and trains of thought scribbled all over them.

"Let's see, so we have the full moon, that might tie in with the purity…" She flicked through a heavy tome, eventually finding the section she was looking for. She scanned the first few pages of the chapter, ignoring her stomach's growl of hunger.

"Okay, so the moon is a part of numerous rituals, celebrations, and… sacrifices." She paused, remembering her vision, and rubbed her forehead in a last, futile attempt to stem the oncoming headache. She continued reading, her dictations causing the charmed quill to rapidly take notes, "The moon, usually a sign of change, purity, ah-ha! Okay, so why…" She trailed off, realisation washing over her like the waves of the sea: cold, unrelenting, and thundering, with the repercussions resonating around her mind.

She dropped the book to the floor with a heavy thud then, forgetting all about the priceless book, hurried off to the Restricted Section. She narrowed her eyes as she scanned the rows, hoping her quarry was there. Muttering softly to herself, she located a book, and pulled it down off the shelf with some difficulty. After checking no one was watching the Head Girl delve into a book on the Dark Arts, she frantically thumbed through until she found what she was looking for.

"Oh, God," she uttered weakly, but continued reading despite being nauseated by the text. The further down the page she read, the sicker she felt, and by the end she felt she could be physically ill.

A loud crack amongst the relative silence of the library caused Hermione to jump, and she span around.

"D- Dobby!"

"The Headmaster is wanting Miss at once. There is a meeting with all the Professors," he said.

"What? Oh! The staff meeting! I forgot all about it… It's my first one as well. What a good impression," she muttered sarcastically. "What's the password?" she added as an afterthought.

"Carpe Diem," he replied. "I must be going now."

Hermione blinked at the vacated space, noting the sombre change to the password. 'Seize the Day', she thought darkly, and hurried to collect her work. With no room left in her bag, she scooped the pieces of parchment, books and quills into her arms and hastily exited the library.

- - -

"She should be here by now," Minerva said, glancing at the clock.

"She must be in the library," Severus said, "_researching_."

Albus and Minerva knew the true meaning of his words, and the Headmaster looked around at the Heads of the houses and the Head Boy.

"We shall have to start the meeting," he began. "Now, Mr Goldstein, seeing as this is your first meeting, I'd like to welcome you. We don't normally have students, but we are in agreement that at this time it would be wise to have students' perspective." He looked around his office, noting the empty chair – next to Severus, of course – but continued. " Now, to business…"

- - -

In half the time it normally took, she was at the foot of the revolving stairs, and after reciting the password, stepped on the bottom step. At the top, she took a deep breath and knocked on the heavy door. Discussion inside broke off, and a call from within signalled her welcome and she entered.

"I'm sorry, Professors, I was-"

"In the library, we know," Dumbledore said softly. "Sit down, child, you looked rushed off your feet," he said, interjecting a hint of humour in his voice so she didn't take offence.

Hermione spotted the empty chair and, ignoring Severus' look, shrugged her bag off her shoulder and dropped her papers on the desk.

"Oh bugger-" She didn't manage to bite her tongue in time, too irked and weary, and viewed the mess of her work that had cascaded off the table and onto the floor. "I'm so sorry," she said apologetically, cheeks flaming red, and ducked under the table to retrieve the escaped parchments.

What she didn't see was Severus picking up a piece that was still on the table and scanning the writing. He raised an eyebrow, then slipped it across the table to Minerva to his left. She frowned, but read a few lines of the scrawled notes, and the others noticed her eyes widen slightly. In turn she slid it to Dumbledore, who considered it for a moment.

Hermione stood and dumped the collected parchments on the desk, flustered, and more than slightly embarrassed. She saw the Headmaster looking at her, the parchment in hand, and her jaw dropped. She looked accusingly at Severus, who shrugged lightly.

"It appears we are going to have to cut this meeting short, I'm afraid."

The looks of glee from the staff were dampened slightly by their looks of curiosity. As much fun as it was trying to get out of late night patrols and listening to Filch's latest complaints, they couldn't help but wonder what was on those pieces of parchment.

"What's the matter, Albus?" Filius asked.

"Nothing, nothing. I just find Miss Granger's research… rather interesting. It is a pleasant day out which I'm sure you'd like to take advantage of, and I have some questions for our Miss Granger whilst she is here. "

As the chairs scraped back over the rug and the members of staff rose, Hermione folded her arms, her expression permeated with lines of anger intermingled with those of exhaustion. Severus looked at her evenly as the Headmaster and his Deputy studied her work.

Dumbledore waited until the room had cleared and the voices echoing up the stairwell had faded.

"Now, Hermione, I believe we need to talk."

- - -

Just a warning: there's some major, um, artistic license… to follow. I'm no expert on magic, and most of the things are mainly made up with a real name stuck onto it. Just enjoy the story, and the fact there's an update! Thanks for reading.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Sixteen  
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"You know I can't tell you anything. You already know too much!" Hermione cried, taking a few steps forward towards the Headmaster. "Please, give me the parchment back!" Her voice cracked and the order turned into a plea.

"Hermione, have you any idea what you are suggesting here?" Minerva asked, scanning the page.

"I know, I know! But you must understand what I saw is what I saw, and I can't change that… No matter how hard I try," she added in a whisper and bowed her head. Her slumped shoulders and her dejected air revealed the extent of her exhaustion and anxiety.

Severus stood and walked to her, not caring that Albus and Minerva were watching. He had seen her bottling up her emotions every day since her vision, and if she didn't have an outlet for that anger, then things would only get worse, her health would further decline, and they would never complete their 'task'…

"Hermione, is it true?"

"Is it true? You think I could make that up? You think I'd lie about it?" she said, throwing her hands up in the air. Severus caught her arms deftly and held them still, her wrists feeling thin and brittle under his strong fingers.

"And you must understand that it is hard for us to take in, hard to accept."

"And how do you think it was for me? To see it, feel it?" She struggled in his grasp but he wouldn't relinquish his hold. "If this is what saving the world feels like, I'm not sure I want to save it anymore."

"Look at me," he ordered, shaking her slightly. "Look at me." She raised her head slowly and eventually met his eyes. "I'm not sure you're good enough to save anything. Maybe it was all a big mistake," he began fiercely. "You're just a child, a simple, idiotic, egotistic, arrogant child. You aren't worthy of this task, and we don't deserve to have our futures rest on you."

Hermione looked up at him with stunned eyes, disbelief and horror clear on her features, before her emotions burst out and she was crying. Large tears rolled down her cheeks as she shook with sobs, but he still wouldn't release her.

"You don't mean that," she said weakly, unable to face him. "I'm not… like that…"

"Then prove me wrong," he said, surprisingly gentle, and pulled her close. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and he held her, able to feel every quivering cry. "Let it all out," he said softly. "Good girl."

He glanced sideways to see Minerva and Albus watching, obviously unimpressed by his people skills. Albus stood and indicated for him to follow, and made his way up into his quarters with Minerva.

Hermione continued to cry, each tear lightening the burden that had been increasing ever since the vision. With each pearly drop, she felt the anger slowly melt away, reducing her to a weak mass, fatigued with stress.

Severus tucked two fingers under Hermione's chin and made her look up at him.

"Hermione, don't allow yourself to do this, don't let the fear overpower you."

"This is you being supportive?" she exclaimed weakly. "What good is destroying what self confidence I have?"

"What good is keeping in your emotions?"

"Rich coming from you," she mumbled, and leant her head on his chest again, the tears still trickling silently down her damp cheeks. She felt his sigh as he rested his head on the top of hers.

"Maybe I can stop you making the mistakes I made, then," he replied quietly. He rubbed small circles at the base of her back, soothing her, even though her crying had now ceased. "Albus and Minerva are… well, terrified by what they read. I presume there's more."

"Lots. Lots more. And that isn't even the worst part. Voldemort- He- He's not a pureblood, is he?"

"No. Ironic how he can lead a mass of people into war against one of his own."

"He- I _think_ he wants to make himself pure. Or at least pure in his own eyes."

"And how exactly is he going to do that?" Severus asked, an odd edge of fear to his voice, but a reply was cut off by the appearance of Minerva.

"Hermione, Severus? Would you like a drink?" she said from the door to the chambers, and they sprang apart. She frowned at their embrace, but looked at them expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"What? Oh, yes," Severus said, and waited for her to disappear again before turning back to Hermione. "How?"

"How what?" Hermione asked, and saw the glint of danger in his eyes. She broke away from him and stared out of the window. Birds fluttered by, free and innocent, whilst students relaxed in groups all over the lawns, taking advantage of the fair weather. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Then when?"

"I'm not entirely sure about that, either," she sighed. "Although…"

"What is it?" he asked, brow furrowed, and joined her again by the window. He watched her reflection, the exhaustion and worry plain on her face as she thought.

"Do you- Do you know of a Black Moon?"

He didn't reply, so she turned around, eyebrow raised. Hermione didn't think it possible, but he had actually paled further.

"I think we'd better go and talk this over with Albus," he said after a moment, and made to turn away.

"But I can't tell anyone! You know as well as I do I can't."

"You _shouldn't_ tell anyone, but it sounds as if this is out of the control of either of us. Perhaps going into details with them is a bad idea, but they are older, wiser, and two of the most powerful wizards we have. Hopefully their knowledge and expertise may help us." He frowned and studied Hermione, then added quietly, "If you wish to talk, then, as you keep saying, we are in this together. I believe you can do this, Hermione. It's about time you believed in yourself."

Hermione hoped he didn't take offence at her surprise, but her lips soon curved into a small smile.

"Thank you, Severus."

"Albus and Minerva are waiting," he said somewhat uncomfortably, brushing off her appreciation. She nodded and, inhaling a deep breath, followed him up the small staircase and through into the living room of the quarters. The two older professors paused their conversation and looked up. Hermione sat down next to Severus on the couch and tried her best not to fidget.

Albus lifted the parchment off the table and spread it over his lap, causing it to rustle loudly in the awkward silence blanketing the room, and he surveyed it intently. Severus leant forward and picked up the two mugs off the table and handed one to Hermione who took it, thankful for something to occupy her hands with and stop her nervous fiddling.

"I understand certain aspects cannot be shared, but perhaps you can elaborate on what we have here."

Hermione considered the Headmaster's words whilst staring into the tendrils of steam spiralling up from the scalding liquid. She curled her fingers around the earthenware, absorbing as much heat as possible.

"I- In the vision, I saw quick images of the Final Battle. Voldemort won and…" She took a deep breath to regain her composure, and continued, voice emotionless, "In it, we lost. I think Voldemort was performing a ritual to purify himself. As a part of it, he recited an ancient incantation, whilst- whilst drinking blood drained from-"

"It's okay," Severus said quietly, the tormented glint in his dark eyes making it clear he knew what reliving such an experience felt like.

"The blood- He asked if it was "pure". I'm assuming that it came from… I saw the Death Eaters drain the blood from the younger students. I knew them, I could even name some of them. And I saw them die. He took their blood. I think he wanted virgin blood."

Her voice was on the border of distraught so Dumbledore interjected softly, "What did he do with the blood?"

"He drank it. He said the spell and drank it."

"When was it?"

"His eyes turned black. I actually _felt_ it. I felt the evil, the Dark magic all around me, trapping me," she said, eyes glazed, voice raw with unconfined fear.

"Hermione, when was it?" Albus asked, firmer than before.

"Full moon."

"She also asked about the Black Moon," Severus added.

Hermione felt the atmosphere tense dramatically, and finally looked up to see Albus and Minerva uneasily watching back.

"Do you understand what a Black Moon is, Hermione?" Albus asked carefully.

"A Black Moon occurs when there are two dark cycles of the moon in any given calendar month. It is believed that the second dark moon is a time of great power within the spiritual world and any magic worked during this time is especially powerful," she recited.

"But do you understand it?"

"If Voldemort wins during the Black Moon, then his power will be greatly multiplied. He performs the ritual for purity at the full moon, I specifically remember seeing it, but when I was reading I saw a brief explanation of the Black Moon. I think- I think this is when he will do it. In between the two Black Moons, when the moon is full, and power is at its peak."

"When is it?" Minerva asked.

"At- At the beginning of June."

Silence. Pure, unadulterated, shocked silence.

Fawkes swooped down off his perch by the fire and came to rest on Hermione's knee. She petted the magnificent bird's wondrous plumage, lost in thought, the weight of him oddly reassuring.

Albus glanced at Severus who nodded and placed his drink back on the table.

"Hermione, you'd better go back to your Common Room."

She stirred reluctantly but agreed, and Fawkes fluttered onto her shoulder so she could stand, and the three professors rose too.

"Hermione, I know this is critically important, but I do not want you to wear yourself down. I'm sure Severus and Minerva are willing to help in any way possible, as am I," the Headmaster said. "Continue with your research, as I am sure I would not be able to stop you if I tried, but making yourself ill will not help anyone."

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied.

"Severus, I trust you can see her out."

Severus moved to the door and held it open for her, and they made their way to the exit of Dumbledore's office. They stood in silence for a short while, neither willing to meet the other's eyes.

"Thank you," Hermione said eventually. She glanced up to see Severus' quirked eyebrow and she elaborated, "For making me cry."

Severus laughed at the comment, causing Hermione to join in.

"I can honestly say I have never been thanked for such a thing before," he said with a smile tugging at his lips.

"You should laugh more often," she said softly.

"When I have good reason to," he replied, and wiped a tear of laughter from her cheek. She closed her eyes at the touch and smiled serenely.

"I told them too much, didn't I?"

"What's happened has happened. It's the future we now have to worry about."

"Don't worry. I'm worrying."

He shook his head and opened the door. She smiled up at him, hitched her bag further up on her shoulder and stepped onto the revolving staircase. Severus watched as she descended, then returned into the other room.

The sight of Minerva and Albus sat in stony silence greeted him and he shut the door gently. They looked up Minerva sighed heavily.

"I guess we'd better get to work," she said. "Albus, will you inform the rest of the Order?"

"Briefly. They don't need to know the source of the information or its extent," he said, standing. "Contact Marie, set up a meeting. Severus, see what inside intelligence you can gather, but be careful. Also, take care of her."

Severus scowled at the unnecessary order, but inclined his head slightly in agreement. Albus crossed to the fire and threw in a handful of Floo powder whilst Minerva dictated in rapid French to a charmed quill that was scratching swiftly across the parchment.

It was clear there was a lot of work to be done.

- - -

"Where have you been?" Ron asked, glancing up from the Quidditch magazine that was propped up against the pumpkin juice.

"There was a staff meeting with the Head Boy and Girl there," she replied vaguely, sitting down at the Gryffindor table.

"We know," Harry said. "Anthony Goldstein came asking us what research you were doing. Apparently Dumbledore cancelled the meeting. What took you so long?"

She had also spent a while calming down and removing any indicators of tears, but she couldn't quite bring herself to meet the eyes of her friends. Though they'd probably take any redness around her eyes as further signs of her lack of sleep, she thought grimly.

"Oh, the Headmaster wanted to look at some of my work, that's all," she said offhandedly, spooning a small scoop of mash potatoes onto her plate.

"Why? What work is it?"

"Ron, you don't seriously want me to explain complex potions to counter slow acting poisons, do you?"

"No, not really," he replied, somewhat apologetically.

Hermione continued to merely nibble at her food, although her appetite was greater than it had been for a while. After a while in semi-awkward quiet, Hermione stood.

"I'll see you later," she said, and at least now was able to flash them a smile before she strode out of the hall.

"What is up with her?" Ron wondered out loud.

Harry shrugged and said, "Probably just the NEWTs. You know what she's like."

"She's just making herself ill," Ron said, concerned. "Snape should stop making her do so much work for that stupid project he has her doing. He knows what she's like too."

"Yeah," Harry spat. "The bastard probably wants her to burn out. Wouldn't want a Gryffindor Muggleborn beating his precious Slytherins."

"Hermione's not stupid though. Besides, she _was_ the one that wants us to all work together."

"How can she expect us to all work together? With _him_ of all people?"

"I don't know, Harry," Ron sighed. Despite the past between them, he still cared for Hermione as a friend above all else. "D'you reckon we should tell her to slow down?"

"And get hexed?" Harry snorted, although the look on his face made it clear he was thinking the same thing. "I reckon Snape should ease up, though."

"You think it's his fault that Hermione is Hermione?"

"Ron, whose side are you on?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Harry, listen to yourself, mate. We're on the same side. And so is Snape," he added quietly, "no matter how hard you try to deny it."

"It'd be easier if Voldemort just killed him," Harry muttered, and threw his fork to his plate with a clatter. "Why can't things be simple?"

"Because… Well, that wouldn't be any fun, would it?" Ron said with a lopsided grin in a last attempt to cheer his friend up. He smoothed out the pages of his Quidditch magazine. "So, who d'ya reckon'll win this season?"

"Not the Chudley Cannons, that's for sure…"

- - -

I really am trying to be good and update, but the major summer exams are fast approaching and I end up guilt tripping myself into revision… I'll try to keep the updates coming!

Bits of magic here and there are lifted from real life and totally mangled to suit my needs, so please bear with me and just enjoy the story :0) Thank you all for reading.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Although separated most of the time due to Quidditch practice, homework, and Hermione's "extra curricular activities" involving Snape, the trio had attempted to repair their friendship. They were all on speaking terms again, and whilst it was cautious at times, they were at least beginning to feel comfortable in each other's company again. Harry and Ron brushed off Hermione's frequent absence, reasoning she must be studying, and neither had the heart to tell her to slow down. Plus, when it came to Hermione and telling her what to do, both were understandably frightened.

It was in potions, hardly surprisingly, that the bond between them looked as if it was going to unravel. Harry was not going to drop his grudge with Severus, and Severus was hardly going to become Harry's new best friend. They were both protective over Hermione, even if Harry wasn't aware of it, but it was only a matter of time before Harry took out his anger on Snape.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were working away in the custom silence with the rest of the class, when Snape swept past.

"Potter, please tell me why your potion is an interesting shade of brown?" he drawled.

Harry, having been snapped awake from his internal monologue of loathsome ranting, slowly looked up at his hated professor and blinked at him simply.

"I don't know, sir."

"Perhaps because you failed to read the instructions? Tell me, what does the fourth line say?"

Harry read off the board, "'Mix anticlockwise three times, slowly stirring in the porcupine needles'?"

"Now tell me this, Potter, did you follow the instructions?" Harry didn't answer and he heard Hermione sigh, but he continued, "Did you?"

"No, sir," Harry replied, his calm voice forced.

"And what are you going to do to stop this from happening again?"

"Not turn up to your class?" Harry said, anger pumping through his veins. Being ridiculed in front of the Slytherins by their Head of House wasn't exactly something he enjoyed.

"I will not stand for your incompetence. Thirty points from Gryffindor."

"Why? I thought you'd prefer not having me in your lessons!"

"Perhaps," Severus replied quietly, "but I do so enjoy these sessions of torture you so skilfully bring upon yourself. Detention."

"No! You're a greasy bast-"

"Harry, shut up," Hermione urged, shooting a warning look at Severus as well for all the good it would do.

"Why don't you listen to your friend. Or do you want her to receive a detention as well?"

"You wouldn't bring her into this. She hasn't done anything!" Harry challenged him, acutely aware of the rest of the class watching intently. Severus raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing.

"Miss Granger, Weasley, detention. You can thank Potter at the end of the lesson."

He turned but Harry shouted, "That's not fair! They didn't do anything!"

Severus rounded on him and leant forward.

"Life isn't fair, Potter, so get used to it. It seems as if the only way to discipline you is to involve your friends. Guilt can go a long way."

"At least I _feel_ guilt."

For a moment it looked as if Severus was going to hex him, the next as if he was going to laugh, but finally he merely looked down his nose at him, a supercilious smirk on his face.

"I shall see the three of you in detention this evening," he said and returned to the front. "I suggest the rest of you carry on unless you wish to join me tonight as well."

The sound of bubbling and chopping filled the dungeons, and when the lesson ended, the room quickly cleared. Harry, Ron and Hermione left in fury, Hermione taking special care to glare angrily at Severus.

- - -

"It's no bloody wonder everyone hates him," Harry cried that evening, as he stalked the path in front of the Gryffindor common room fire.

"You did… overreact a bit, mate. Look," Ron added defensively when Harry spun round to face him. "None of us like him, but, you know, maybe if you lay off him a bit you'll make things easier."

"And how do you suggest I do that?"

"By not reacting to his bait?" Hermione suggested icily.

"I thought you'd love another excuse to spend your whole night down there with Sevvy," Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione took her own advice and ignored the comment, and slumped down in her chair and closed her eyes.

"Look, we've got a detention, let's just go and get it over with," she said. "It's nearly seven o'clock."

Harry followed his two frosty friends out of the portrait hole and down the corridor. His stomach twisted in guilt and he stopped.

"Hey, guys. Look, I'm sorry. I didn't expect him to give you detention too."

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione sighed. "Just try to control your temper next time."

"I'll try," he said with a wry grin. "No promises though."

She shook her head in response, but a small smile threatened at her lips. "Come on, we'll be late."

By the time they got to the dungeons, Severus was already waiting. They walked in, waiting for their orders.

"Potter, Weasley, I want that pile of cauldrons scrubbed to looking like new," Severus said, pointing to the pile in the corner. He turned to Hermione and said, "Miss Granger, I want you to tidy up my stock cupboard. Since I'll mostly be supervising Miss Granger handling my more dangerous ingredients, I'm afraid you'll not be able to use magic." He smirked and added, "Of course, there are charms in place to see you abide by the rules. Now, get scrubbing or you won't be leaving here tonight. Miss Granger, follow me."

He made to walk to his office and Harry, ever suspicious about Hermione and Snape together, burst out, "I though your store cupboard was through the other door."

"I'm sure the three of you know the inside of my stores rather well from over the years, but I'm going to take the opportunity of a competent student in detention to sort out my private store. So thank you, Potter, for giving me this opportunity." He turned on his heels and led her through his office and into his quarters. He closed the door and turned to face her.

"Firstly, calm down."

"Calm down! You gave Ron and I detention for absolutely no reason. Harry hates you even more now. Ron is hardly pleased about Harry landing him in detention. Do you want to ruin what friendship we have?"

"Hermione-"

"Don't 'Hermione' me!"

"Listen. Potter needed to be disciplined. Now he feels guilty and also feels he is in your debt, hopefully making him more likely to co-operate with what you say. Plus I brought you in here so you can continue your work, with the added bonus that you won't have to explain to them what you were doing tonight."

Slightly deflated, but searching for a point to argue, she asked, "And you put Ron in detention because of what exactly?"

"Because I don't like him?"

Hermione let out a cry of exasperation and sighed heavily, and Severus crossed round behind her. With his long fingers he slowly began to work the knots out of her shoulders. She groaned and stretched as he massaged her, melting into his touch.

The door to his quarters flung open and a near irate Professor McGonagall entered Severus' rooms.

"Severus! Why have I just found three detention slips filed, with two of them containing no reason or sign of disobedience? Not to mention-" She froze as she properly took in the scene.

"What is the problem, Minerva?" Severus asked calmly, continuing Hermione's massage.

She closed the door and continued, somewhat abashed, "Not to mention the tale I overheard about you putting Weasley and Hermione in detention for Potter's insolence. It appears that at least one of them got off lightly. _Very_ lightly, I might add," she said, watching him stood behind her student, kneading her shoulders.

"You're making Professor McGonagall uncomfortable, you know," Hermione said quietly, trying to stifle her grin.

"Yes. That's why I'm doing it," Severus replied in a mock whisper.

"You're evil."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

Hermione burst out laughing, not helped by the look on Minerva's face. Severus walked to the door to his office.

"I'll go and check on Potter and Weasley. I'm going to assume you'll make yourself comfortable and get a drink."

Minerva watched the door close with a frown and Hermione giggled before throwing her robe over the chair. She went over to the bookshelf and began to scan the books.

"You and Severus seem rather… friendly," Minerva sniffed.

"You could say that," Hermione replied absently.

"And you are supposed to be in detention now?"

"Yes. Severus and his rather original approach to discipline..."

"That's one way of putting it," Minerva murmured. "What are you looking for?"

"Anything that'll help, really."

Minerva took a few paces closer and said awkwardly, "What you told us… It has taken a lot for us to accept it, and a lot of our resources are going into it, but-"

"Professor, as much as I wish I was wrong for once, that's what I saw," Hermione said, slightly apologetic.

"At least we'll have _some _preparation."

"You don't seem that confident," Hermione noted.

"I can't go into details, of course, but the European Ministers have held a meeting. I've never known so many people so deep in denial."

"I think she knows enough to be briefed better," Severus commented, returning to the room.

"Are they behaving now?" Minerva asked caustically.

"Why yes, they are," Severus replied with a smile which only annoyed her further. "If you would supervise them, then I could help Hermione with her work, rather than keeping my attention on listening for an explosion."

"I though you said no magic?" Hermione said.

"Since when has that stopped them?"

"You owe me, Severus," Minerva said darkly, glaring at him. It was only the unsettling feeling of knowing how much Hermione's work meant that swayed her into saying yes. "Mind if I borrow a book?"

Severus reluctantly nodded and she pulled down a book she had been eyeing and swept from the room. He went over to the gap in the books to look at what she had taken.

"What's she reading?" Hermione asked from the sofa after hearing a disapproving noise.

"A rather obscure text on Transfiguration in- ah- Dark Magic."

"I may have to borrow that one time," Hermione said with a grin.

"Unless you're perfectly fluent in German you may have a problem," he remarked, and walked over to where she was reading and threw his robes over the chair back. He noted the frown of her brow and asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Whether I want to know why you have books on virgin sacrifices in your quarters?"

"Light bed time reading?"

"That's not funny," Hermione chided sombrely.

"No, it's not," Severus sighed in reply and sat down next to her. "Where else would you have me put the Dark Magic books? Until a short while back, nobody else had access to them."

"Do you wish you were still alone? That this had never happened?" Hermione asked quietly.

Severus sat thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "What's happened has happened, but who I am now, where we are, I'm not sure I would want to go back. It has been an… experience sharing my quarters again, but not exactly a bad one."

"I guess that's the closest I'm going to get to a compliment?" Hermione smiled. "Wait. Again?"

Severus' face clouded over and any traces of a smile disappeared.

"You think it impossible that I ever shared my life with another person?" he said.

"Of course not," Hermione said hastily. "You've just never said anything about another woman."

"No, I've not," he replied, effectively ending that line of conversation.

Hermione sighed and shifted the book in her lap. She began to read again, shivers running down her spine at the horrific atrocities. It was hard to stay focused with Severus' eyes on her, though. He had a couple of his own books around him, yet he had spent some time observing her, books forgotten. After reading the same sentence three times she turned to him.

"What? You're not helping me concentrate, you know."

"There's something you're not telling me."

"I could say the same thing," she commented stiffly, looking back at her book, although she knew she couldn't hold his secrets against him.

"About the vision, the blood. What is it?"

Hermione continued to stare blankly at the page. Severus was about to prompt her again, but she replied monotonously, "In the vision, I saw people I knew being slaughtered. The majority of them were young but there were a few from the upper years as well. I read somewhere that the older the person, the better the blood is for the ritual. More magically potent."

"And?" Severus said, encouraging her.

"Severus, I wasn't there. I didn't see me anywhere. I should have been, but…"

"What are you saying? You're still a virgin?"

Hermione blushed furiously and nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"It is nothing to be embarrassed about, but quite the opposite in fact." He paused for a moment then asked carefully, "And what do you think that means?"

"Well, in the vision it seems I'm not a virgin," she said, voice constricted in humiliation. "I guess that means that sometime between now and June I have to have sex."

"You make it sound like a terrible prospect," he eventually settled on replying, unsure what to say.

"I wouldn't know. I'm hardly an expert in the area." She shifted uncomfortably, desperate to change the subject. "Can I have a coffee, please?"

Severus obeyed her request, seeing she wanted to divert their attention away from her sexual status, and strode over to the stove. His mind, however, floated away on possibilities and implications. She was the one he was to love. Sex didn't mean love, but… He growled at himself and shook his head. Such thoughts weren't going to help. Of course she wouldn't want to lose her virginity to him. _Him _of all people.

He took a deep breath to clear his thoughts and set two mugs down on the table and summoned a tray of food for supper. Hermione leant back and stretched, rolling her head from side to side to relieve her neck muscles.

She watched him as he leant against the wall near the fire, sipping at his coffee, obviously lost in thought. Hermione could guess that it was the newest revelation circling his mind, and at least felt relieved at the lack of horror and revulsion she was almost expecting. She wasn't sure yet what it meant for her, but at least it was out in the open.

Severus glanced up and Hermione couldn't help but look away, embarrassed to be caught watching him. She smiled at him with a slight shrug, and she was rewarded with a smile in return. He held her gaze, eyes searching, questioning. He found honesty and openness, and maybe a willingness that perhaps she didn't even know of yet.

He watched her turn back to her book, a slight blush rising up her cheeks. Surely the thought of them together had crossed her mind, at least after discovering the significance of her loss of innocence. He wasn't entirely sure what he thought about it, about what his morals told him to do, but a similar relief washed over Severus as it had over Hermione, relief that she wasn't disgusted, that she was still there.

Feeling slightly more at ease, he moved over towards her and took up the place next to her. He was rewarded with her shifting slightly, subconsciously finding a position where she could comfortably rest against him.

After a few minutes, Hermione let out a soft, almost contended sigh. "I ought to get detention more often."

Severus smiled. "Indeed."

- - -

It was the next weekend, and Hermione was once again on the sofa in his rooms. Her brow was furrowed as she ploughed through yet another book, yet another ritual.

"It's getting late," Severus said from over at his desk, quill hovering over an essay, red ink shimmering at the nib.

She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. "It's Saturday, eleven's not that late. Or are you trying to throw me out?"

"No. It's just that you shouldn't be reading such things so late." He put down the quill and sat back. "The same could be said for me," he added dryly. "Your class has proven its inability to faintly grasp even the simplest of concepts yet again."

She put her book down on the coffee table and turned to him, mouth open, argument ready, but he raised a hand to cut across her. "I do not need to be lectured on my high requirements. Surely there is nothing wrong with my high demands."

She shut her mouth sharply, determined not to gape at him. Recovering what she hoped was quickly, she replied indignantly, "Maybe if you didn't demoralise every student at every available opportunity-"

"You incorrectly interpreted a mere statement as an invitation for discussion, Hermione. I do not wish to be challenged about my teaching methods."

She bit back her retort, stunned by his words, but was glad to find no real malice in his words. If anything, he just sounded tired.

"Sorry, Severus," she said quietly, and glanced away. She heard him stand and straighten the piles of work. He was moving around, presumably returning books and work to where it belonged, but she didn't watch. She couldn't quite get used to the glimpses of the Snape she knew from the classroom, the fierce tempered man loathed by many. She knew she was a fool to think Severus was a world apart from the man she was taught by, but she wasn't yet used to knowing just how far she could push him when they were alone.

She let out a sigh. Figuring Severus out was never going to be easy.

Almost as if to prove the point, Severus' next words both startled her and confused her.

"Grape?"

Hermione looked up, eyebrow quirked. Severus stood above her with a bunch of grapes held out in one hand, chosen from the freshly conjured tray of food on the coffee table. She couldn't help but laugh and shake her head, but, feeling wicked, opened her mouth. He mirrored her previous expression with a raised eyebrow, but finally complied by plucking a grape off, sliding down to sit next to her, and placing it in her mouth.

She enclosed her lips around it, eyes sparkling, taking extra care to capture his fingers in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the end of his fingers, making sure she licked all the sweet juice, and saw with satisfaction a look of pleasure and… was that _want_ that flickered across his face?

"You're far too easy to distract, Hermione," he said quietly.

She was about to ask what he meant when she realised all her books had been returned to their shelves, all her research rolled up and placed neatly in the bag at her feet. She tried to think of when he must have done it, then realised that she didn't really care.

This was a much more interesting task to dwell on, a test of how far they were both willing to take their relationship. Pulling back, she blushed gently and turned away, well aware of his scrutinising eyes surveying her intently.

He might not have expected such an action from her, turning an innocent offering into a gesture laden with much more meaning. She knew they'd both spent the last few days thinking about what lay ahead between them. She reasoned that if it wasn't what he wanted, she would know it. She'd probably be currently running through the castle away from his anger. And, she thought, if she herself didn't want something further, she wouldn't have done something like that, not even on impulse.

Slowly, thoughtfully, but with delight, she picked off another grape and returned the gesture, holding the simple fruit out for him. He took it willingly, and whilst she was still leant towards him, he placed a kiss on her lips and she kissed him back, lost in his scent and the sweetness of his lips.

- - -

Thanks for reading and sticking with the story :0)


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on. **  
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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Eighteen **

Faint popping filled the air as most of the group departed the scene. They were all of the lower ranks, but these demonstrations were just enough to persuade them to commit to the cause. At first they were casual gatherings, but soon, as planned, they moved onto bloodthirsty nights of debauchery. It was designed to reach out to wizards of a less upstanding nature, to draw in borderline Death Eaters to replenish the diminished numbers, and make the new servants feel that it was their desire all along.

"Severus, old man, you're losing your touch," the other man said, the smirk clearly evident even though his face was masked. "You're not getting _bored_ are you?"

"How could I possibly be bored in your most entertaining presence, Cerberus?" His eyes travelled around the room, surveying the damage.

The younger Dolohov brother shook his head in an amused manner and hit Severus on the back with a bloody hand.

"You merely seem… off, tonight."

"It's been a while," Severus replied stiffly. Then, he forced out, "Besides, if a great deal of our brethren weren't biding their time in Azkaban, such proceedings may be a little more… interesting."

"Yes, yes, I understand. Having to play lapdog for that old fool has its terrible downsides. It's a shame your innumerable skills are wasted on these fledglings," he said, waving a hand in the air to indicate those who had just gone. "Not to mention that this must pull up a few memories," he added, the mocking laughter evident in his voice.

Severus couldn't stop his gaze darting to the woman they – _he_ – had killed; the man and child off to one side that he had watched die.

"Memories. I have no need to dwell on them. It is the future over which we have control."

"Life would be certainly be dull without you, friend," Cerberus commented with a smile.

Severus repressed a shudder. Any friend of such a man was an enemy of his.

"We'd better go before the authorities get here," Cerberus said, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece of the strange Muggle house. "Though I don't know why the Dark Lord won't let us dispose of them, too."

"A few deaths here and there are a warning. The Minister is the most useful to us whilst he is in denial," he replied, only too happy for the excuse to leave.

"Always the voice of reason," was the reply. Severus turned to leave but he was called back. "Haven't you forgotten something? A memento of the occasion?" Cerberus pulled the wedding ring off the woman's finger and pressed it into Severus' hand before Disapparating amidst loud laughter.

Severus looked at the gold band in his hand then violently threw it at the wall, where it hit with force and fell to the floor. He looked around once more at what felt like a familiar scene: the husband, forced to watch his wife be brutalised, tortured and murdered. Only Severus had survived, unlike the man sprawled over a chair in a pool of blood.

He returned to the castle and marched straight to his rooms, unable to face retelling the night to Dumbledore. He pulled his robes off, threw the white mask to the floor and sank into one of the chairs, kneading his forehead. A sudden pang of loss resounded through his body, and he found himself entering his bedroom. Carefully, he pulled a small studded casket out from under his bed, and re-entered his living room, taking a seat by the fire.

He placed it on the coffee table, eyeing it apprehensively. For so many years it had been relegated to under his bed, hidden from sight, but not out of mind as was his original intention. He considered it with care, and eventually resolved to open it.

He leant forward and ran a finger gently along the edge of the lid, ending at the lock.

"Marianna."

A soft click from the lock and the box was open. Snape sighed, the memories weighing heavily on his mind. He gingerly opened the box for the first time since he had locked all the memories away.

Sitting on top was a photograph. Marianna opened her eyes, then, after a moment of hesitation, broke into a grin. She approached him and waved, her simple Muggle dress fluttering in the breeze.

After considering it for a moment, he laid the photo down and pulled out the next few items. Her favourite book, her diary and a few letters begged for him to open them and read their words once again, but two simple objects at the bottom of the box caught his attention.

What were to be their wedding bands. Elegant, flawless, beautiful. Just like her.

He held them tightly and closed his eyes for a moment. After all these years he hadn't forgiven himself. Couldn't.

He continued to sift through her most treasured belongings. He smiled as he found her first published research paper on Veritaserum. That project had brought her the credibility and respect her intellect deserved, and had brought them both together.

But, of course, his happiness was to be short-lived. Out of the small cupboard in the corner, he brought the Pensieve loaned from the Headmaster. He swirled the wisps of silver and one image floated up out of the vapour.

- - -

_Marianna's laugh rang out, her head tilted back in mirth. She gasped for breath and wiped a tear away._

"_Oh do cheer up, Severus."_

"_I fail to see what is funny," he said, but a sparkle of amusement lit up his dark eyes. _

_His fiancée shook her head and her dark hair finally escaped its confinements and tumbled around her face. He leant forward and pulled a strand out of her eyes and her laughter stopped, only to be replaced by a grin. She straddled his legs and sat down in his lap, playing with a button on his shirt._

"_Mariana, we're in a library," he said pointedly, though not convincingly._

"_I know." She cocked her head on one side, grinning. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Before he could protest she said, "Look, we should have gone home over an hour ago, and Robert can seriously only expect so much overtime."_

_He almost looked like he was going to reprimand her for wasting their research time, but a small smile of his own reflected her mischievous look. She leant into him and captured his lips in a kiss, her own passion mirrored by her partner's._

"_We're not even married yet and look what you've done to me."_

"_I know. I've still got a lot of work to do," she teased._

_He stood up, her legs still wrapped around his waist, his own arms around her back to support her. _

"_Do you want to tell him or should I?"_

"_I think you'd better. Last time I suggested time off, he 'suggested' being thrown off the team," Severus said darkly._

_Marianna nodded and slipped down him to stand. "Ready?" _

_She stood restlessly, fidgeting slightly as she watched him gather his papers and books, then nod. She shared a glance with him before turning to the back of the library. "Robert! We're leaving! See you tomorrow!"_

_She grabbed Severus' hand and his long strides and her impatience quickly carried them down the length of the vast library and out into the street, Robert's yells echoing out into the cool autumn air. Marianna laughed into his chest as they finally Apparated to their home. _

_He immediately dropped the bag and drew her into a kiss. A well-practised routine, she began to unbutton his shirt and ran her hands over his chest, even as he backed her against the wall, giving into his desire._

"_Severus," she whispered hoarsely. The tone was far too urgent. "No," she said breathily, bringing up her hands to cut him off. "Look!"_

_He froze. She was looking over his shoulder, white with fear. _

"_Please, don't stop on our behalf. Actually, I was quite enjoying that," a man drawled. _

_Snape span around to face the intruders. Four of them that he could see, all dressed in black robes and white masks. _

"_Get out," he said, voice dangerously quiet. _

"_But the fun hasn't even started yet," countered the same man. _

_Severus studied the eyes glittering through the slits in the mask. "Lucius?"_

_The man laughed. _

"_Wait. You- You know these people?" Marianna's voice shook with undisguised fear. "Severus? Who are they?"_

"_Does he know us?" Lucius Malfoy repeated. "My dear, he's one of us. Go on, Severus. Show her your Mark."_

_Snape glared at him, knowing full well that any retaliation would cost them their lives. Beside him, he could feel Marianna shaking, cowering away from him._

_One of the others grabbed him roughly and pulled back his sleeve. _

"_Very clever. A concealment charm? Of your own making, I presume? It must be a powerful one, to hide it. I suppose it takes quite a lot of energy to maintain. Most wizards wouldn't have the strength to disguise a Mark such as this." A pause. "Most wizards wouldn't want to."_

_Snape narrowed his eyes at Malfoy. He had never considered him a friend, merely an acquaintance, yet here he was, stabbing him in his back. Maybe literally, too, if he didn't think of anything quick._

_After a few moments, a very determined Malfoy had weakened the protection enough. Just for a split second, gruesome, ugly and forever there, the Dark Mark appeared on his arm, burnt into the skin. It was just a split second, but it was enough._

_Marianne uttered a small scream and scrambled away, mouth open in complete terror._

_Not seeing any use in keeping up the guise now, Severus allowed the magic to fail and the Dark Mark to appear._

"_Marianna…" Everything about him was pleading, begging._

"_Yes, let's hear how you explain this," Malfoy smirked._

"_You- You're a- a Death Eater."_

"_Marianna…"_

"_Get away from me. Get away…" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whimpered softly, backing up until she hit the wall. "No… Tell me, Severus… Tell me they're lying…" _

_But he couldn't._

_They cursed him there, froze him to the spot, made him watch whilst he was unable to help or hide from the terror. _

_The next morning when the Ministry Officials arrived to investigate the Dark Mark hovering above the house, the only sign of what happened that night was the blood. It was everywhere._

_But Severus knew._

- - -

For some time, how long he didn't know, he continued to stare at the Pensieve, even when the image had gone. Agony ripped through his heart, feelings reawakened within him that he had tried so hard to forget.

"Was that her?"

Severus jumped up so suddenly that he sent the contents of the small chest flying and they skidded across the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?" he yelled, whirling around to face Hermione.

She looked up at him with large, round eyes, the woman she was becoming rapidly reduced straight back to a scared little child.

"I- I- You said I could just come in. I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Get out!" Severus roared, his cheeks flushing with rage.

Hermione stumbled backwards and twisted away to get to the door. She managed a few steps, but then she froze, resolve flooding through her. She turned back to face him, defiance in her every fibre. She ignored his glare and took a few steps back towards him.

"No. No! I won't let you do this," she exclaimed, voice louder than she had intended. "I won't let you push me away like this, not after we've come so far. You've helped me these past few weeks, more than you even know. Having to go through this whole thing on my own… I wouldn't have been able to do it."

"If we weren't supposed to go through it together, you wouldn't have gone through _anything_."

"Stop trying to blame yourself. Severus, let me help you too."

"I don't need your sympathy, and nor should you care," he shouted and turned his back on her, desperate to block her out.

"Why not, Severus? Tell me," Hermione yelled in response. "Is emotion only for mere mortals?"

"You tell _me _this, Hermione: why would I only want to feel pain?" he exclaimed viscously.

"You don't want sympathy, you don't want pity? I don't _want_ to pity you! I want to be here for you, to support you, and you won't let me do that!" She paused, considering his words, and continued in a voice that clearly conveyed her own pain, "Do I not make you feel loved? Do I at least make you feel happy?"

He combed his fingers through his lank hair and didn't respond.

"Severus?" she whispered. Any louder and her voice would break.

After a few moments of silence, he thought she had left, but she said softly, "You don't think you deserve to be cared for. You think-"

"I've killed people, Hermione," he cried, finally facing her and quickly paced over to where she was rooted to the spot. "Slaughtered them, watched them bleed at my feet, been a part of things you can't even imagine. And you _want_ to care about me?"

Hermione's gaze never wavered. "Yes."

Severus never thought such a simple word could have such an impact, but his temper dissipated and he felt jarred. He ran his fingers over his weary face.

"I've killed people… hurt them…"

He shook his head wildly, but Hermione silenced his next comment by circling her arms around him and pulling him closer. He wanted to pull away, to reiterate the fact he didn't need to be saved, especially not from himself, but she held him to her body with her light touch, reassuring him without words. She caressed the back of his head as it rested against hers, and he eventually slipped his arms around her in return.

"None of this is your fault," Hermione repeated softly. "It is Voldemort who has control over so many foolish people, the Ministry that cannot tell the truth, and Dumbledore that has you answering Voldemort's calls."

She felt him twitch slightly under her touch and from the deep recess of her mind remembered Harry commenting on Severus' intolerance of the Dark Lord's name.

"I'm sorry. I never realised you hated his name too," she whispered awkwardly.

"Whilst Dumbledore, Minerva, and a few others, including you, can speak his name, it is not a name I desire to speak, nor a good habit to get into. Potter knows no other way, and you, Minerva, Albus, you all have overcome the fear it was designed to initiate, and yet I…"

"Am a brave, daring, sarcastic, intelligent, witty human being." She announced it with an air of pompous humour, but it was clear the words were sincere.

Severus fell silent and pulled away from her, but still held her in his arms.

"Hermione. What you said before… I _do_ feel loved, you _do_ make me happy. And that scares me." He swallowed and continued, "The last time I felt like this it evolved into a proper relationship, and you now know what happened."

"That doesn't mean that it'll happen to us."

"But what if it does?"

"Hush, Severus."

"No," he replied firmly. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't want you to hurt me either," she replied levelly, "and I don't want to see you hurt. I'm stubborn, Severus, and you're not going to get rid of me that easily." She played with the collar of his shirt, her expression thoughtful. "Us. This. It feels… right."

"Anything between us should be wrong," was his dark reply. Then, he conceded softly, "but what you say is true."

"It should be wrong, but it feels right, which in turn makes it feel even more wrong, but I don't care." She sighed and rested her head back on his chest.

"Life is neither fair nor easy, and it doesn't make much sense either," Severus concluded.

They remained in the pose for a while longer, until the clock chimed the late hour.

"I need to go and report to Dumbledore," Severus said heavily. He stepped back and moved off to place Marianna's belongings back in the small box. Hermione watched, any feelings of unease – at least temporarily – dispelled.

He returned from his bedroom, hesitated slightly, and returned to Hermione. She reciprocated his gentle kiss, careful not to spark off a deeper passion within. She craved more contact than the chaste moments of embrace, and judging by the look Severus gave her, he knew it, and he wanted it too.

"I'd better go," he said quietly, but didn't move.

Hermione placed a sweet kiss on his lips once more, and untangled her arms from around his neck. He pulled on his teaching robes over his clothes, and crossed to the door.

Before he exited, Hermione softly said, "I'll be here when you get back."

As Severus met her eyes with a steady gaze, a shot of mutual understanding and affection passed between them, and he sent her a small smile of gratefulness before sweeping out to make his report to the Headmaster.

- - -

I'm sorry it's been so long. Apparently modems don't cope well when struck by lightning… Three cheers for my new modem, and three more for anybody still reading this :0)


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Nineteen **

"How do you know that you love someone?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Minerva peered over the top of her of china cup and raised a scrutinising eyebrow, before setting the cup down on its saucer with a clatter and leaning back to study Hermione.

"Pardon?"

"How- You and Professor Dumbledore," she began nervously, then rushed on, "How did you know you loved him?"

"If I knew inviting you back for a cup of tea was going to earn me an inquisition, I would have prepared," Minerva said crisply.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione apologised quickly. "I didn't mean to pry."

"Oh no, dear, _I'm_ sorry," Minerva sighed, knowing there wasn't any harm in the young woman's questioning really. "It's just the last person that questioned our relationship… Let's just say it wasn't immensely enjoyable."

"Umbridge?"

"Yes," Minerva replied stiffly, face contorted in contempt. "I still can't understand how I managed to control my temper with that blasted woman! I can hardly imagine it was easy for you, either."

"Are you _trying_ to change the subject?" Hermione grinned, and received a wry smile in return.

"So, you want to know about love?" Minerva fell quiet, and Hermione let her think and reminisce. She watched as a sad smile graced her features. She sighed softly, "Love. Whilst magic is powerful, love is a force that, as young Harry proved, is even greater than the darkest of evil. It's just finding the strength to hold on to that love at the harshest of times that is hard."

She paused for a moment, stood, and crossed over to a bureau against the wall. Hermione took the chance to peer around the professor's quarters. Various doors led off to other rooms, but the main living area held comfortable chairs and numerous tables with books spilling everywhere, as even the bookshelves were full. Plus, Hermione mused, there was slightly less tartan than she would have expected.

"Organised chaos," Minerva said, reoccupying her vacated seat. She handed over a couple of photographs, yellow and spotted with age.

Hermione studied them, the first of a group of three couples, all waving up to her, the other obviously of Dumbledore and Minerva, who had his arms wrapped around her.

"The first is of myself and Albus, with Alice and Frank Longbottom and Harry's parents. That wasn't taken long before they were killed." Her breath hitched but she continued, "The second is of Albus and I shortly after Grindelwald's defeat, when we had first got together." She sighed languidly, and leant back in her chair. "Bad things happen to the best of us. Lily and James, and Alice and Frank… they were besotted with each other, clearly deeply in love. You could see it in their eyes, their smiles, the way they touched each other. Everybody knew that nothing could break that bond. Not even death," she added bitterly.

Hermione shivered at her professor's voice, and took to studying the pictures once more as something to do.

"You look happy too, here," Hermione said, indicating the second picture. "Both of you."

"I was. I still am, of course, but time and war is taking its toll, and the world at the moment is hardly a happy place to be. There, the war had just finished, our prospects looked good, and I was in love." She frowned thoughtfully, and said, "You must have felt power surging through you, the magic flowing through your veins. It's like that, I guess, but blissfully sweet and all consuming. It is a power, it is magic for you, and like magic it can go bad, but … When you are in love, Hermione, you will know. Hold on to that love, whatever happens, because in the end, it's all we have."

Minerva shook her head slightly and looked away, studying the tendrils of fire flickering in the hearth. Hermione blinked and sank back in her chair, taking in the almost chilling words.

"So, what are you planning on doing over the holiday?" Minerva asked suddenly, sensing the need to change subject.

"Oh, I thought I would stay at the castle, spend time with Severus," Hermione replied, thankful to lighten the mood, and saw Minerva frown slightly. "Professor, I know you hate any idea of us together, but-"

"Hermione, I merely dislike the fact that you are still a student," Minerva said levelly. "The rights and wrongs of my position are ingrained too deeply in me, but the actual idea of you and Severus together… Severus is the happiest I've seen him in a long time, although you would never guess, and that means more to me than petty rules to stop dirty old men taking advantage of their positions."

Hermione smiled at the older witch and received one in return.

"Thank you, Professor. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

"You're welcome. Just don't do anything _I_ wouldn't do." Hermione snorted at the rare mischievous twinkle to Minerva's eye, but the professor continued, "I guess you won't be telling Harry and Ron where you are, then?"

"They've been weird with me ever since the vision," Hermione sighed. "I don't think calling out Severus' name helped any."

"Despite what Severus thinks, they are not stupid. They'll figure it out eventually."

"In the meantime, I can thank God that they choose to be blissfully unaware of anything I choose to do with their hated Potions Master, be it after school classes, or... anything else. Don't worry," she added, seeing Minerva about to chastise her. "I will tell them eventually, just not right now. Besides, it _is_ supposed to be a secret."

"Nothing's sacred, Hermione, nothing," Minerva said plainly. "If you wish to see your parents, I'm sure Albus wouldn't mind organising something."

"Thank you, I'd like that." After a few more minutes of idle chatter, Hermione set her empty cup down on the table and stood up. "Thanks for the tea, but I'd better get going."

"Of course. I can only hope you'll join me again soon," Minerva said, allowing a smile to form on her thin lips.

Hermione grinned and nodded as she pulled on her robes over her uniform. Minerva chuckled lightly and stood, before moving over to the door to open it for her guest.

"Hermione," Minerva began as the other witch joined her. "Don't let your friendship suffer, okay?"

"I'm trying not to."

"Harry needs you, and so does Ron, and there is no point in ruining what you have," she said. "Besides, even if you don't see it, you need them too."

"I know," Hermione sighed. She made to move but Minerva didn't open the door.

"I- I hope you don't mind me asking a question now, but… Do you love Severus?"

Hermione started in shock at the abrupt, unexpected question. She studied the floor for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth, then looked up at her professor.

"I don't know. I really don't."

She shrugged slightly, and Minerva finally opened the door.

"Thank you," she whispered, before leaving the quarters in a thoughtful daze. Minerva swung the door shut and rested on the cool oak, and sighed heavily.

"What's going on, Albus?"

"This is merely one thing amongst many that I do not yet understand," the Headmaster replied, stepping out from one of the side rooms. "My dear, how did you know I was here?"

"Sixth sense," she said with a wide smile. Crossing over to him she added suspiciously, "How long were you listening?"

"I seemed to have gone deaf, you know. I haven't got a clue what you were talking about," he said with mock bewilderment and shrugged.

Minerva laughed softly and leant into Albus' embrace. He placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too, Albus."

- - -

"No, no… you can't… No! Leave me… alone…"

Harry and Ron shared an uneasy look before turning back to Hermione, who was tossing and turning in her troubled sleep. The rest of the Common Room was empty, the rest of the students being in bed, and the fire was burning low.

"Think we should wake her up?"

"And risk being cursed?" Harry said glumly, then sighed, "I suppose you're right. What do you reckon she's dreaming about."

"I really don't know," Ron said, shaking his head. He knelt down by her chair, and whispered, "Hermione, wake up. Hermione!"

"Don't. Just- just stop. No."

"Hermione!"

"What? Get away from me!"

"Hermione, it's us. You're okay."

Hermione scrambled back in her seat, and, breathing heavily, finally saw who was in front of her. She swallowed and took in a deep breath.

"What were you dreaming about?" Harry asked.

"N- Nothing," she mumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead and wincing at her headache. Harry and Ron frowned in disbelief but she said quickly, "What time is it?"

"Almost midnight."

"And you two are up because…?"

"We- uh- were going to go and sneak some food from the kitchens," Ron said guiltily.

"Honestly," Hermione began bossily, but Harry cut across her.

"Hermione, are you sure you are okay?"

"I'm fine. Really. I'm just-"

"Tired?" Ron exclaimed, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. "For the smartest witch in the school, you sure are being a bit slow on the uptake."

"Shut up, Ron."

"Look, you stay here, and me and Harry'll go and get you something to eat."

"No, don't be stupid."

"You look as if you haven't had a proper meal in weeks," Harry chipped in. "Calm down."

"Calm down," she muttered darkly. "Why do people keep telling me that?"

"Because you need to, or you're going to burn out," Ron said softly. "You've been doing too much work."

"But it's important."

"We know the NEWTs are important to you, but it's not worth this."

Hermione closed her eyes – they thought all this was because of exams; to her they had been rendered meaningless – and in a matter of seconds she was sobbing. Harry and Ron looked at her, terrified, and Ron patted her hand. Salty tears of anger, fear and exhaustion fell, and she didn't even attempt to stop them. Little did they know the importance of her work, she thought. Little did they know how much it meant for everyone.

"S'okay, Hermione, let it all out," Ron said. "The Easter holiday starts next week. You can relax."

"Are you coming to Grimmauld Place with us?" Harry asked.

Hermione sniffed and said thickly, "I'm seeing my parents. Professor Dumbledore said he'd arrange it for us."

"Oh, okay then," Harry said.

"How about we have a little farewell meal, then, with just the three of us? We can sneak down to the kitchens and get some food, and we can have a little party," Ron suggested brightly.

"Always thinking about food, you are," Hermione said, but with the beginnings of a smile. "Besides, we've still got the rest of the week to see each other."

"So? We're all here now." He looked to Harry for support, who nodded vigorously.

"Come on, Hermione, have a bit of fun."

She sighed, knowing she was well and truly beaten. "Fine then", she conceded, "but let's try a bit of subtlety with this."

Harry and Ron grinned, and the black haired boy pulled out his father's cloak.

"You go and get into something more comfortable, and we'll be back in a few minutes."

"Say hi to Dobby for me."

With that, the two boys disappeared from view, and Hermione heard the Fat Lady's surprise at being woken by an invisible stranger. Feeling more light-hearted than she had for a good while, Hermione discarded her robes over the chair, and piled cushions on the floor around the fire.

After a while, the portrait hole opened up, and Harry and Ron appeared from nowhere with what was practically a miniature feast. They laid the containers down and opened them, revealing cakes, toffees, sweets, chocolate, and other saccharine things she couldn't even name.

"Tuck in."

Hermione stifled a laugh, but picked up a slice of the nearest chocolate cake. Giggling as the thick cream escaped out of the sides, they began to reminisce over their time at Hogwarts, from mountain troll wrestling, to storming the Ministry of Magic.

"Good times," Harry said soberly, but ended up laughing. "Good times."

Minerva, having heard hushed whispers on her nightly rounds, smiled in the darkness outside the portrait hole. Rather than shout at them for being good friends, she merely decided to ignore it. She melted back into the shadows, transformed into a tabby cat and sped off down the corridor, Albus' impending torments ringing in her ears.

She hadn't gone soft. No, she hadn't. Not _her_…

- - -

"Are you sure you don't want to come on the train with us," Ron practically pleaded.

"Come on, Hermione, it'll be fun."

"You know I'm going to see my parents. No one will be there at the station to pick me up," Hermione reasoned. She looked around at the other students waiting on the front steps for the carriages to take them to Hogsmeade. The sun made the rippling lake dance with shimmering light, and the grass was a rich green.

"Why, how are you getting there?" Harry said quietly,

"Portkey," she replied in the same stifled tones.

"Miss Granger," Minerva whispered in her ear, almost making her jump. "If you wish to join your friends on the train, then a member of staff can always be waiting for you at the station. Take one of Harry or Ron's bags, and there will be a lot less questions asked about your whereabouts."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, but it did make sense, and replied, "Of course, Professor."

"I'll make sure there is someone waiting," she said pointedly. Hermione smiled, wondering how Severus would take the news he was to play escort.

"Thank you."

"Have a good Easter," Minerva said to the three of them, and returned to waiting by the Headmaster.

"Well, I guess that settles it then," Hermione shrugged.

"Come on," Harry said, picking up his bag, "let's get in this carriage."

Hermione bent and picked up Ron's second bag before he could, and handed it to Harry, who then helped her up.

"What have you got in there, Ron? It feels like you've brought your whole trunk."

"Revision," he said dispiritedly. "Mum told me I have to bring all my books."

Hermione laughed at his expression, and chose not to comment on the necessity of revision. Not that she'd done a lot of it, a treacherous part of her mind whispered.

"So," she began cheerfully, "what are you going to be doing in the holidays?"

"Well…"

The train ride soon came to an end, and it felt like in no time they were stood at the station. As the billowing steam cleared and the number of children quickly declined, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood glancing around the platform. Harry had had his customary "Greeting Party" of Tonks, Moody, and the others, and they were now waiting to see Hermione off.

"Don't be silly," she said, "They'll wait until you've gone to come and get me."

"Well, we need to be going," Moody growled, his eye zooming around erratically. "There's no one else here now, and we have a schedule to keep to."

Harry sighed, not liking the idea, but gave in to Moody's stern – and rather frightening – look.

"We'll see you back at Hogwarts," he said.

"See you in two weeks," Ron said, then pulled her into a hug. Harry did the same and she smiled at them both.

"Thanks, Now, go! I'll be fine."

Harry and Ron allowed themselves to be jostled out through the barrier, and Hermione looked around the deserted platform nervously. The Hogwarts Express' engine set off, and the train began its journey out of the station.

"You didn't think I'd leave you, did you," came a smooth voice from behind her.

"Good evening, _Professor_," she replied with a devilish smile.

"Yes, and it has just been made even better with the prospect of not having to see those two idiots again for the next two weeks," Severus replied. He held out a quill, their portkey, and indicated for her to touch it. "Shall we?"

Hermione nestled against him and touched the quill, grinning as their two weeks alone together commenced.

- - -

Thanks for reading and for the lovely reviews:0)


	20. Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.**  
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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty **

Hermione felt the ground under her feet, and Severus tightened his grip on her so she didn't fall. Glancing up, she smiled at him as he tucked the quill back in his pocket.

"Welcome back," came a voice, and Hermione finally realised they were in the Headmaster and Minerva's rooms. It made sense for Dumbledore to lower the wards near where he was, Hermione reasoned darkly. She smiled at the pair who were relaxing in the comfy chairs before the fire, cups of tea in hand.

"We were just wondering if you would care to have breakfast with us tomorrow," Albus said.

Hermione shared a look with Severus, rather surprised at the offer, and he nodded.

"Ah, good. As I doubt Severus wishes to endure us any longer than necessary, I guess we shall see you both later, then," Albus said.

"The last day of term is always a long day," Severus replied, somewhere between an explanation and an apology. "May we use your Floo?"

"Of course," Minerva said. "You know where it is."

Severus picked up the jar and threw the powder into the fire, then stated his quarters and stepped through. Hermione shot a last smile at the Headmaster and his deputy then followed.

"Two weeks," Hermione said, her eyes scanning around Severus' room, confirming to herself that it was real. "Two whole weeks. It seems strange. Easter holidays never seemed so long before."

"You make it sound as if spending two weeks here is a long time," Severus commented, brewing them both a coffee.

"Not at all," she replied. When he had finished, she took the proffered mug and sank down into the sofa next to Severus. "What do you normally do in the holidays?"

"The usual: brood," he said dryly, and received a laugh in return. "Mark work, read, work on my own research, torment little children."

"Sounds like fun," Hermione said with a mischievous sideways look.

"Oh, always," he drawled sarcastically.

They continued in the same vein, alternating between talking and calm silence, until Hermione tried to stifle a wide yawn, failed, and sucked in a deep breath.

"When was the last time you had a proper nights' sleep?" Severus asked, quiet concern in his voice.

Hermione shrugged evasively, and pursed her lips in a futile attempt to stop another gaping yawn.

"I've just been busy lately, you know that."

"I also know you'll only end up making yourself ill," he said. "Between studying for your NEWTs, classes, and your… research, you haven't had time to rest, or even _try_ to rest." He clapped his hands and the same house elf that had served them their coffee in the dungeons all those months ago appeared. "Go and fetch the bags packed by Miss Granger's bed up in Gryffindor Tower. The other students should have gone on the train, but still be careful." The house elf nodded and disappeared.

"What are you doing?"

"I was under the impression that you were going to stay here over the holidays, or have I misinterpreted something?" he asked, and the scathing edge to his voice made Hermione's cheek flush pink.

"It's just-"

Whatever it was, it was cut short by the reappearance of the house elf with two large Muggle rucksacks, stuffed with clothes.

"Go and change into… whatever you wear to bed and I'll make you some hot chocolate. Then you can sleep."

Hermione frowned at his orders, but saw there was no point trying to dispute his reasoning, and stood. Picking up the smaller of her two rucksacks, she padded off into the bathroom.

As she closed the door, nervous energy surged through her and it was with shaking hands she pulled out her pyjamas and toothbrush.

"Get a grip on yourself," she murmured to the mirror as she set about brushing her teeth, and noticed it appeared to be an ordinary Muggle one. Typical Snape, not wanting anything to answer him back. "You've spent ages down here, lately. It's just like a sleepover." She spat into the basin and watched the white foam get washed away with the water. "Only not."

Severus heard soft mutterings reverberating around the tiled room, but ignored them and took down the barely used hot chocolate powder from inside the cupboard. The lock on the bathroom door clicked open and he turned to see Hermione stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself and shoulders slouched.

She watched as he raised an eyebrow slowly, and his lips quirked into a small smile.

"Don't laugh," she said irritably, and dropped her bag down on the floor. She glowered at him as she sat back down, and quickly curled up into a ball.

"How very… fetching," he said, eyeing the purple pyjamas with what appeared to be a design made up of love hearts emblazoned across the front of the top. He realised he was staring at the hearts, which was in an inappropriate place to stare, and started and returned to making her the hot chocolate. Behind him, he heard her relax into the couch, muttering that the clothes were off her mother and were "comfortable". He chose not to respond.

The drink was soon ready, and he turned to give it to her. "Drink this and you can go to-" He noticed her shallow breathing and her closed eyes. "-sleep. Typical."

He leant back against the counter, watching her. Her face was pale, with dark, unmistakable circles framing them, signs of her lack of proper rest. He brought a thick, woven blanket from his room and gently draped it over her, careful not to wake her. She emitted a soft groan but pulled it closer, and sank back into a deep sleep.

After a few more moments, Severus cleared the mugs away, dimmed the lights and retreated to his bedroom.

- - -

Soft whimpers from the next room made Severus open his eyes and instinctively reach under his pillow for his wand. He sat up a little, black eyes glittering in the dark, and finally recognised what the sound was.

Hermione.

He threw the covers aside and slipped out of bed, his bare feet not even registering the cold of the stone flags. He pulled the door open slightly, and, spotting no one, cast the charm to brighten the lights. On the couch lay Hermione, entangled in the blanket, tossing and turning, desperate to free herself.

"Hermione," he whispered, and pulled the blanket down her body, freeing her arms. He knelt down beside her as she thrashed from side to side, and grabbed her hands to stop her striking out. "Wake up. It's just a nightmare. Hermione."

Her eyes flickered open and she froze. She looked up at him with her terrified gaze and swallowed. She bowed her head, a soft sheen of perspiration on her brow reflecting the firelight.

"It's okay, there's no one here," he soothed.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," she said, her voice almost businesslike, trying – and failing – to hide her fear. "I'm fine. I'll just go back to sleep." She began to smooth the wrinkles out of the blanket as something to occupy herself with.

"If- If you, well, don't want to be left alone-" He trailed off.

"No, I'll- I'll be fine," Hermione said, her voice higher pitched that normal.

Severus looked at her sceptically, but stood up. She looked away and determinedly stared at the floor rather than him.

"Well…" he said awkwardly, stood for a moment, then retraced the path to his room. Hermione pulled the covers about her, but felt her fears return as the proximity between them greatened.

"Wait," she whispered, and pushed the blanket away.

She stood up, swaying slightly on the spot, and slowly joined him. He reached out and placed a steadying hand at the base of her back, and she leant in to him as he guided her through the door and into his room.

"Nice night-gown," she croaked and smiled, albeit tiredly, up at Severus.

"Around here it's safer than sleeping naked," he returned bluntly, and Hermione snorted, idly imagining him being woken up in the middle of the night to see to some emergency whilst being nude. By the time he'd finally buttoned up his clothes to answer the door the rescue mission would be moot.

He pulled back the covers for her and she climbed in the bed, wriggling about to find the warm patches. He slid in beside her, and within a few minutes she was back asleep.

- - -

She lay peacefully in his arms, the faint candlelight casting long shadows of her flickering lashes over her cheeks. She took in a deep breath and sighed a long, contented sigh. Severus allowed his harsh features to soften at her calmness, the fact that she was with him and actually at peace casting him into a daze.

It seemed so long yet so recently that they had been in his classroom, drowning in bitter realisation of their situation, thrown together in highly unconventional circumstances, not for merely their own benefit. And somehow they had survived each other, so far at least, and they were trying their hardest to survive whatever it was that was coming.

So long ago it was, he mused, since he had held someone in his arms. So long since he lay awake at night – for his dreams were haunted too – and just calmly stayed there, enjoying the simple luxuries of calm and trust.

Hermione blinked a few times, but didn't move for fear of disturbing the dreamlike state. She could feel his warmth against her, his breath tickling the back of her neck. Stretching slightly and stifling a groan, she felt rejuvenated after many nights of little or no sleep.

"Good morning," Severus said softly, and Hermione rolled over to face him.

"Morning."

She grinned at him shyly, then looked away, not entirely sure how to behave. Severus noticed the spark of fire within her eyes had been rekindled, and he smiled slightly, although just as nervous as she was.

"Are we still having breakfast with the Headmaster?" Hermione asked.

"If you still want to."

"What time is it?"

"Don't worry, they will be having a late morning themselves."

Hermione made a vague noise of assent, still in a sleep-induced daze.

"I'm going to go have a shower," he said, and she groaned as he left the bed, but pulled the covers closer and soon slipped off back to sleep. Severus shook his head and padded into the bathroom.

It was some time later when Hermione and Severus Flooed into Dumbledore and Minerva's quarters. The two old professors paused their conversation, and indicated for them to sit down at the table.

"Good morning, Severus, Hermione," Minerva said brightly, pouring them both a mug of coffee.

"Minerva, Albus," Severus nodded as a greeting and took his seat.

"Thank you for the invitation, Professors," Hermione smiled nervously.

Minerva laughed and said, "My dear, please, call us by our names and not our titles. We're not teaching at the moment, are we?"

"Thank you, um, Minerva," Hermione replied with a small grin, the name strange on her tongue.

The small talk over tea, toast and crumpets continued, until the morning post arrived. Half a dozen owls of varying size and colour swooped in through the open window, and perched in a well practised line on the back of the sofa.

"Albus, how many times do I have to tell you? They'll pluck the material with their claws," Minerva chided, and Albus looked at her gingerly, before summoning the first owl.

"The French Minister requests a visit," he said, and passed the letter to Minerva, who began to read. "Our own Minister, well, the less said the better." Another owl hopped forward, and he untied the bundle. "Ah, it appears we have a letter for each of us," he said, and passed out a letter each to Hermione and Severus, and held his so Minerva could read too.

Hermione took her letter, and began to open it, when another owl jumped forward, a package attached. She took it off and had to feed the owl a piece of toast before she could inspect it without getting her fingers pecked. She recognised the handwriting on the letter, and noticed it was the same as the one on the package, and opened it, curious.

After a few minutes, Severus sat watching Hermione as her eyes darted from side to side, reading the letter, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"Well?" he said eventually.

"It's a, um, letter off my mum," she replied.

"And the package?"

"She just sent me a present," Hermione replied vaguely.

"Oh, that's nice of her. What is it?" Minerva said over the top of her letter.

"Oh, nothing, she just went and bought me some clothes."

"Judging by all those you brought with you for a mere two weeks, you surely don't need more," Severus snorted.

Hermione shrugged, folding the note up and putting it in her pocket out of Severus' sight. Her mum hadn't indicated exactly what was in the box, merely that the contents would give Severus a reason for her to have a "wonderful night". She wasn't sure exactly how – or even how she wanted – to take it.

Across the table, Minerva seemed to notice that Severus wasn't looking too convinced and headed off more questions by bringing up a sure-fire topic for distraction.

"I hear one of your chasers damaged his broom," Minerva said casually. "Surely he can't find a new one – not to his standards – and adapt to it before the next match. Don't you think this'll affect your chances?"

Severus was soon embroiled in a rather heated discussion, and Minerva winked at Hermione. The professor clearly enjoyed winding Severus up, and her thoughts on the Gryffindors' superiority over the Slytherin Quidditch team was an easy way to do it.

Dumbledore caught Hermione's gaze are rolled his sparkling blue eyes at her. She laughed gently and shook her head in response.

The rest of breakfast was spent in a similar manner, Minerva and Severus bickering, both enjoying riling the other, and Hermione and the Headmaster occasionally offering comparisons between them and students of the school.

By the time to leave she had none of the nervousness that had accompanied her earlier. The atmosphere was warm and friendly. She was especially glad to note that, whilst perhaps not liking the idea, it appeared her Head of House had relaxed slightly on her opinion of their relationship. _If only I could myself_, she thought with a sigh.

- - -

"So, aren't you going to show me what was in the package?" Severus asked when they returned to his chambers. Hermione flushed slightly and glanced away. "Well?"

Before she could stop it she had reverted back to her bossy tones and said, "My, Severus, I didn't think you'd be so interested in female clothing."

"I merely want to know what clothing could cause you embarrassment," he said coolly, a glint in his eye, and Hermione folded her arms in annoyance.

"I'm not sure what it is, ok. Happy?" She was hoping to inspect the contents alone later that night and discern the meaning of her mother's comment.

Severus let out a short laugh of surprise and looked at her properly. "Then why should it cause you to be so defensive?"

"Because…" She wasn't sure what to say, so she resorted to honesty. "Because it could be anything, and it seems some of my mother's motive for buying it for me is to do with you," she said shortly, glowering at him.

Severus didn't react for a while, nothing that Hermione could see at any rate. His mind was racing, trying to decide what this meant, what the offending pieces of clothing could be. Eventually, quietly, he asked, "Then aren't you going to show me?"

Hermione, about to have a drink from her mug, spluttered and placed it back down on the table. "Severus!"

"I've seen you in pink teddy bear pyjamas," he said dryly, and added with a rare mischievous look in his eye, "Somehow I think whatever's in the box is less embarrassing."

She sighed and narrowed her eyes at him, hearing the challenge in his voice. "They're purple."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"I can't believe this," Hermione murmured, and Severus looked up at her victoriously as she stood up.

She retrieved the box and returned to her seat. She undid the ties and ripped off the paper, then carefully lifted the lid. Just enough space was left for her see the contents, and she sighed in something akin to relief.

She removed the lid properly, then, and withdrew what appeared to be a deep red dress. She lay it over her knees, hands running over the smooth velvet. Glancing at Severus, she saw him studying the garment, and Hermione smiled at his furrowed brow.

"I think my mum wants you to take me out for the night," she said quietly, thinking back to the letter.

"Hermione-" His eyes met hers, and she shook her head sadly.

"I know, Severus," she sighed, then laughed sharply. "She thinks we can go wherever we want around the world, whenever we want. But I hardly mind Death Eaters and espionage and permanent danger not being on her mind..."

Her gaze wandered over the dress one last time, then she slowly folded it up and replaced it in the box. Severus watched as she put the lid on and stood.

"I'm going to do some work." Her mind cast about, wondering where she could retreat to without being seen.

"You may use my office, if you wish," Severus offered.

"Oh, thank you." She was stunned, and smiled broadly in return.

"If you find yourself bored, you can always mark some first year essays. I won't mind," he drawled, and cocked an eyebrow at her.

His effort to lighten her mood seemed to have been successful. She merely mirrored his raised eyebrow and rolled her eyes at him as she swept passed.

- - -

Severus stood, leaning on the doorframe, merely observing. She was sat in his chair, an elbow on either arm, her hands clasped together to provide a rest for her forehead. She would never know how long he had sat there in such a similar pose, so deep in thought.

"Hermione," he said softly, then repeated it again, slightly louder. She lifted her head and smiled at him. "That's enough for one day. Come."

She was ready to argue, only she did agree with him. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and stood.

"You may leave your work out; I daresay you'll be back in here tomorrow." He extended an arm, and she moulded against his body and allowed him to guide her through into his rooms. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" She glanced up at him quizzically. He seemed almost… nervous? Surely not.

"Go put on your dress."

"Why?" she blurted.

"Please," he said, somewhat shortly.

"Ok then," she replied slowly, and, thankfully, did as she was told. She pursed her lips, but the confusion and suspicion were evident in her eyes as she turned and made her way to the bedroom.

Severus set to work quickly, hoping his efforts wouldn't be wasted. He wasn't exactly an expert on romance, after all. Eyeing the scene critically, it met his expectations, then he couldn't stop his expectant gaze coming to rest on the bedroom door once more.

He pulled on the frock coat he had set aside, then, rather impatiently, simply watched the flames dance in the hearth as a means of distraction. Eventually, the door creaked open, and he turned to see a rather timid Hermione step out. She leant on the doorframe, a shy grin on her face.

His eyes roved over her body, the dress revealing what the comical night clothes and compulsory school wear had hidden over the years since. She twisted a curl of her hair nervously, waiting for him to respond.

The deep red velvet clung to her nicely then flared out as the skirt reached her knees. His gaze flowed downwards from the fair exposed skin of her shoulders and neck to her breasts, just hidden by the bustier, to her hips, femininely curved.

"Your silence is making me paranoid," she muttered.

"Well, what can I say?" he said softly, and tilted his head to gesture her over. She pulled herself away from the doorframe and walked over to stand before him, practically waiting for inspection.

"You can say I look nice, or that I don't look fat, or-"

"Hermione, you look divine."

Her head snapped up at the compliment, and she allowed him to take her hand and pull her closer. She sighed happily in his embrace. It was then that she noticed the adjustments that had been made to the room behind him.

"Oh, Severus," she muttered quietly. She peeled away from him and moved around him, better to inspect his work. The chairs and table in front of the fire had gone, replaced by an ornate table set for dinner for two. Silver cutlery perfectly laid out on the dark green tablecloth reflected the light of two candles dancing merrily on tall candlesticks.

She turned to him, amazement in her eyes, and saw the apprehension in his.

"Thank you." He moved closer at last and she wrapped her arms around him. She rested her head against his chest and ran a hand up parallel to the numerous buttons, noting the fine dark green embroidery on his coat. She marvelled at the effort he had put into the whole idea, the details he had obviously carefully considered. "It's wonderful, Severus."

He took her hand and led her to her place, where he held out her chair for her. When she had sat, he poured first her, then himself a glass of wine.

Hermione, smiling mischievously, raised her glass. "To you, Severus; may you never cease to amaze me."

His eyes searched hers, and failed to find any sarcasm. He raised his own glass. "May we never cease to amaze each other."

- - -

A couple of hours later saw Hermione and Severus stretched out over the sofa, the furniture having been restored to normal.

Severus was studying her thoughtfully. Finally, he spoke her name.

"Hmm?"

"What were you expecting to find in the box off your mother?"

She surprised him by laughing. "Oh, I don't know." She shook her head. "It seems so silly now. Who knows? Sexy underwear, maybe. Something for a 'wonderful night'! It could have been anything."

She turned to look up at him, her pretty cheeks rosy from the wine, her smile a self-deprecating one. His expression was rather shocked, although he hardly seemed appalled at the idea. She rolled her eyes and leant back against him.

He responded by squeezing her lightly where his hand rested on her hip. "A wonderful night indeed. You do look nice," he said softly into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes, lost, as he tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ears and began to gently rub his thumb up and down her side.

"You're not so bad yourself," she managed, her voice slightly strained.

Hermione felt his low laugh rumble through her body. She turned to face him, revealing the full extent of what had become a feral grin, and he leant in for a kiss.

Fear dulled by the alcohol flowing through her, she twisted and straddled him, sitting on his lap. Her moan reverberated around his chest as her fingers frantically began to tear at his buttons.

He froze and Hermione then did the same, and her grip on the front of his coat tightened.

"Hermione-" He was searching for words, but found none.

Her eyes roamed her efforts, his shirt and chest now clearly visible, and turned her head to the side and straightened, mentally berating herself.

Severus looked at her in shock, disbelief evident on his face. "Hermione?"

"I'm sorry. No, I can't expect that of you." She sighed heavily, blinking away pearly tears, but he held her close.

"Hermione, you want-" He swallowed. "With me?"

"You sound surprised," she laughed gently.

"I thought you would want to do that with Potter, Krum, even Weasley." He met her eyes, questions clear in his gaze.

"No, not with them, but you. You're the one I'm in this with, you're the one I…" She giggled suddenly, and sniffed, wiping away a tear. "Look at us, dancing around one of many issues we knew we had to inevitably face up to. I- I cannot go into that final battle a virgin. It- It feels so horrible to say that, but I'm scared. I don't want to have this experience forced upon me, but I have no choice, and since I have to do this, I want that experience to be shared with you." She sighed and continued, "Severus, I know sex doesn't make you love that person, but…" She shrugged, and he nodded slowly.

With a slightly callused thumb he wiped her cheeks dry, and, his hand cupping her jaw, kissed her once again. He couldn't believe he was even starting to consider thinking about such an idea, but his perception of right and wrong had shifted. He was a professor; he couldn't bed a student. But so much rested on it. The lesser of two evils, he reasoned.

He ran his hands down her arms, up her thighs, around her back, his touch a whisper on her skin. His expression was dazed, the thoughts racing through his mind inescapable. She was a woman now. If the body under his hands wasn't proof, then the look in her eyes was certainly proof enough. She met his gaze, undemanding, patient.

He swallowed. "Are you ready?" he asked softly, and Hermione fully understood the heavy underlying meaning of his words. She closed her eyes briefly.

"I'm ready."

He looked her in the eye, and found the truth of her statement there. With a last kiss, he put his arms around her and stood up, her legs still wrapped around him. She slid down his body, not breaking contact, and let herself be backed up against the wall.

Suddenly he had her hands pinned above her head with one of his, his other splayed at the base of her back, pulling her closer. He could see in her eyes the want and the need. Pressed against him, it was apparent that Hermione wasn't the only willing party.

"I want this, Severus," she whispered. _And you want it too._

He smiled at her, then, resolved, and it wasn't long before he was guiding her blindly, both too occupied to fully concentrate on their path. One upturned table and a few scattered books later, and they were safely inside the bedroom.

- - -

I know, I know, I'm bad at updating! I really do try but this chapter's gone through so many revisions to get to something I like and uni's cruel and saps time like a… time eating monster… Anyway.

I hope you liked the chapter. Thanks for reading and for the lovely, lovely reviews:0)


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty One **

Passion, heat, arousal, romance, sensuous whispers and frantic hands… Body sated, Hermione had fallen asleep in Severus' arms, limbs entangled and swathed in sticky sheets. But, by morning, God it ached…

Hermione groaned and winced as muscles she didn't even know she had protested. The sound of fast flowing water had woken her, and she stirred, shivering as she rolled over on a cool patch of the bed. Sitting up, she saw Severus peer out of the bathroom.

"I guessed you would be sore," he said bluntly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his starkly contrasting clinical demeanour after such a night, but slid to the end of the bed. She gathered the sheets around her and slowly stood up.

Severus left the room. _Why?_ she thought crossly. _To give me privacy? Bit late for that. _She stumbled across the room and pushed the door to the bathroom open to be immediately assaulted by the strong scent of lavender oils.

Letting the sheets fall to the floor, she stepped into the bath and sank beneath the bubbles. She sought out a few bottles lined neatly at the foot of the bath, and poured a dollop of what she hoped was shampoo into her hands.

Lather.

Why was he being such a git? However much her Gryffindor roommates complained about men being men – supposedly insensitive and mulish – Hermione doubted it was the usual behaviour of a man after sex.

Rinse.

Of course, he never played the Prince Charming, but surely a few pleasantries weren't that difficult. There was no reason for him to act so cold towards her. Last night had been… not at all like she had envisioned her first time. There had been pain, yes, but his gentle, attentive hands and mouth had brought her her own pleasures. Such an encounter with someone of her own age, she felt, wouldn't have involved anyone nearly as considerate.

Then why, after such thoughtfulness and thoroughness, would he behave so extremely now?

Repeat.

Then again, this _was_ Snape.

Hermione's hands froze and she sighed heavily. This was Snape. He would feel guilty at bedding a student, no matter what the reason was. He was a nothing if not a man of discipline. It was one of his responsibilities to guard the children in his care, and instead he probably felt he had taken advantage of one of them

She had hardly forgiven him, but there was guilt in her anger as she dried off, dressed and drained the bath. The strong smell of lavender followed her into the living room, and Severus glanced up, nose crinkled in distaste.

"The House Elves brought breakfast," he said blandly, and went back to his work. Hermione frowned at the top of his head and took a sip of the coffee, noting how it wasn't quite as good as Severus', then swept past him to the fire.

"Where are you going?"

Hermione blinked at his cold tone and replied loftily, "Out." She grabbed a pinch of Floo powder before stepping into the fire to the Headmaster's office.

Severus scowled at the fire as it regained its normal colour.

- - -

"Professor?"

"Albus."

"Albus?"

"Yes, my dear?" he said, and looked up from the letter he was reading.

"Is there any chance of me being able to go and see my parents soon?"

"Of course, of course. When would you like to go?"

"As soon as possible, please."

Albus raised a thick grey eyebrow and studied her for a moment.

"Please, sit down." Hermione did so and he opened a tin on his desk. "Sherbet Lemon?"

"No, thank you."

He shrugged and popped one of the sweets in his mouth. He leant back in his chair and studied her over the top of his glasses.

"So, how are you putting up with Severus? I trust all is well?"

"Fine." She tried to sound convincing; she didn't think talking about the past twenty-hours with her Headmaster was a wise idea.

"I suppose you both must be busy," he said, though it seemed more of a prompt than anything. He continued, "You know, he is always so secretive. He never likes to share his work. Such a shame, really, that he hides the work he is so passionate about."

Hermione fought back thoughts of his passion, ghosts of the previous night tracing delicate touches over her skin. She licked her lips, her mouth having suddenly gone dry, not entirely comfortable with the old man's questions.

"Well, he is an intensely private man," she replied eventually. "He doesn't respond well to forceful questioning." Her body ached and her mood was worsening rapidly, and she couldn't help but add with a sweet smile, "I guess we're not all that different in that respect."

His face darkened at her slight, although it was barely noticeable, but Minerva popped through the open door from their quarters before he could respond.

"Albus, Amanda would- Oh, good morning, Hermione." The professor smiled at her and entered the room properly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"That's good dear. Now," she began, and passed Albus the letter in her hand. "Amanda needs to see one of us. I was thinking of going as soon as possible; it seems important," she said as his eyes scanned rapidly down the page.

"Yes, that'd be wise." He paused then added, "Do you think you would be able to take Hermione to her parents on your way? Today is as good a time as any."

"I don't see any reason why not," she replied and took the letter back. "Oh, Hermione, come with me, I have a book that may interest you."

Grateful for an excuse to escape the Headmaster's questions, she followed Minerva out of the office and into the living quarters.

Minerva closed the door and immediately apologised, "I'm sorry you received such a grilling. He's like that sometimes."

"It's okay," Hermione assured her.

"No, no it's not, but that won't stop him. It's been a long week and sometimes old habits die hard." She sighed tiredly and sat down in front of the fire. "Tea?"

"Um, yes please." Hermione joined her professor and watched as she poured the rich liquid into two China cups from the freshly summoned tray.

"You look troubled, child."

"You'd be hard pressed to find someone who _doesn't_ look troubled."

"True," Minerva conceded, "but we're talking about you."

"Where should I start?" Hermione laughed hollowly.

"I shall not make an Albus-esque statement and merely say wherever you wish. Starting at the beginning in these cases is pointless, I find; logical order has no place when ranting." Minerva smiled understandingly. "I mean what I say, and I am a willing listener."

Hermione seemed to study her cup of tea in immense detail, but in reality she saw nothing. Her mind was ablaze, so many thoughts and emotions being called up.

"I hate having such a burden on my shoulders and I hate knowing what roles we all have to play. I hate having my family embroiled in a war they know nothing about." She shook her head wildly in despair. "I hate that I look around in the common room and can't help but wonder how many won't make it through to the end of this. I hate feeling so helpless. I hate the fact that I have to-" _Love_ her mind finished.

Hermione stopped short, knowing better than to finish that sentence, and glanced up. Minerva looked taken aback by her torrent of anger, but frowned thoughtfully.

"From what I can tell, you and Severus are close," she said carefully. "With all this Oracle business, it makes it hard not to believe in fate. Maybe you were chosen for this destiny because you are the only one strong enough to make it through."

"But I don't _want_ a destiny!" Hermione exclaimed. "I want to chose what I do and when I do it and who I do it with!"

"Hermione, nothing is definite. You have to do whatever you were told to do to change the outcome. If you ignored what the Oracle said, then everything would be different. If you succeed or manage to partially fulfil what she said, then things could be different again. You have chosen to try your damned hardest to fulfil the blasted thing. _There_ is the choice."

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully and nodded. She eventually returned her gaze to the old witch and said, "I can only hope that the choices that I've made were the right ones, and that they were enough."

**- - -**

"Now," Minerva said. "We will be using a portkey to get to where your parents are staying. Don't worry, we have placed charms on the quill to make the magic as untraceable as possible. When you are there, I will Apparate away, and come back for you when it's time to come home. Ready?"

Hermione nodded so she tapped the quill with her wand and said, "Hold on."

After the familiar tugging at her stomach and the odd feeling of the ground disappearing from under her feet, Hermione landed with Minerva in what appeared to be the back garden of a large house. Large trees provided cover from anyone that might be watching, but Minerva still glanced around.

She pointed over towards the back door, and said, "Go in there. You will get to a conservatory and through there is the kitchen. Just shout, there'll be someone there. Now I have to go. Amanda doesn't live far away, and I'll be back in a few hours. Okay?"

Hermione nodded, smiled, and walked over to the house. In the shelter of the trees, Minerva disappeared.

"Hello?" Hermione called out. The place was large, bright and airy, and totally foreign. She was used to her small cosy house, or the grandeur of Hogwarts, and she peered around, taking it all in. "Hello? It's Hermione. Is there anybody-"

"Hermione!"

She span around and saw her mother, who ran towards her, arms outstretched.

"Dear, how are you? Is everything okay? How did you get here?"

She couldn't answer any of the questions, as she was enveloped in a crushing hug.

"Hi, mum."

"Oh, it's so good to see you. Come and sit down and we'll talk." Hermione sank down into one of the sofas, as Helen went into the kitchen. "What do you want? Cola? Lemonade?"

"Lemonade, thanks."

She re-emerged with two drink, the ice tinkling against the glass, and handed one to Hermione. After taking a sip, Hermione began to peel away the layers of clothes; it was much hotter there. She eyed her mother, taking in her healthy tan and relaxed smile.

"So, how are you?"

"I'm fine. A bit tired. The NEWTs – the final exams – are coming up, and with everything else… I'm fine though. Really."

Helen eyed her sceptically.

"Where's dad?" she asked, diverting the subject.

Helen chuckled, "Out with Bob and Amber. It's so odd, living with a witch and wizard – I mean one that can legally do magic all the time, of course – and your father has gone with them to the local wizards market."

"And you're safe here? Alone?"

"Don't worry. They wouldn't leave me alone if they weren't sure I was safe."

"But _I_ just walked straight in."

"From what I've gathered, they have some magical barrier in place, or something like that, that lets only certain people in. We've had some amusing moments with door-to-door salespeople," she added with a laugh.

Hermione frowned, but sipped her drink without further comment. She knew there would be numerous safety precautions in place, but her mother being left home alone still didn't sit well with her.

"Did you get my present?" her mum asked, hoping to remove the scowl off her daughter's face.

It worked and Hermione smiled, which only grew further when she noticed the wicked sparkle in her mother's eyes.

"Hmm, and what was that about a wonderful night?" she demanded.

"Well, I thought you deserved a nice night out and a pretty dress can't just be thrown in a cupboard without being shown off. Did he take you anywhere nice?"

"We had a nice meal and a few drinks. It was a nice night," Hermione replied carefully. She didn't want to lie to her mum, but she also didn't want to have to explain why they had stayed in the castle.

"How is Severus?" Helen asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to voice an automatic reply, but instead sighed, "It's weird. He's acting so odd."

"Well, something must have made his attitude change. What's different?"

Hermione avoided her mother's eyes, and Helen raised an eyebrow. Then, an idea hit her and she wanted the earth to swallow her whole. They had had a nice meal and _a few drinks_. Not only had he bedded a student, but one whose kisses had tasted of wine and whose words had been emboldened by alcohol.

She suddenly wanted to return to him and set the record straight, but she made her attention return to the present. Her mum was still talking.

"Hermione, since I last saw you, you have grown up an incredible amount, and for you that really is something. You look like a _woman_, not a child. If- If things with Severus have progressed to the next level…"

"And you're not angry?"

"Angry, no. I just hope for your sake that you made the right choice, and that the decision wasn't taken lightly."

_There wasn't much choice_ Hermione thought, but smiled at her mother.

"From what I know, Severus wouldn't have such a relationship if he didn't mean it. He has so much to put on the line, yet here you are, together. Your father and mine's situation all those years ago wasn't all that different, and we both think that you should find love where you can. Besides," she grinned, "his English is better than Viktor's, he's smarter than Ron, and doesn't have all of Harry's teenage angst."

Hermione blinked then laughed, a welcome release of much built up tension.

"Thanks, mum. That still doesn't make me feel much better about him being so… _Snape-like_, though."

"He's a man," Helen said bluntly.

"Well, yeah…"

"Seriously, though, he's an intelligent, old fashioned, academic, focused man, and he doesn't want to do something wrong by the school's standards, or _his_ moral standards. Don't worry about it, dear, he'll come out of it soon." Noting her daughter's glum expression, she asked brightly, "Tell me how Harry and Ron and the professors are. "

Thankful for the change in subject, Hermione began to chat away happily, and for the next couple of hours, she felt almost normal again.

- - -

Minerva waited in the corner, agitation clear in her features, but she was patient as Hermione said goodbye to her parents. The two Americans glanced her way, eyebrows raised, and she shook her head sadly.

Hermione, oblivious, hugged her father and mother again.

"Good luck in your exams, and in… everything," John said. He kissed his daughter's head and moved aside to allow his wife to wrap her arms around her.

"Hermione…" Tears shone in her eyes at having to let her daughter go back to where the war was fiercer and the danger stronger, but blinked them away. She whispered in her ear, "Work things out with Severus. Anger never did anyone any good. Support each other, get through everything but don't exhaust yourself, and… I love you."

"I love you too, mum."

With a final hug and kiss from each of her parents, she made her way over to Minerva, who nodded solemnly at everyone, and led the way into the garden. She procured the quill, charmed it, and held it out.

It wasn't long before they were in Dumbledore's office.

"You know where the Floo powder is, see yourself out," Minerva said distractedly. "I need to go and speak with Albus."

"Is everything alright?"

How could she lie to someone so deep in the war herself?

Minerva sighed heavily, "No. No, it isn't."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly but didn't question further, and turned to seek out the Floo powder.

"Oh, I never did give you that book. It doesn't matter, you probably have everything you need."

"Thank you anyway, and thanks for taking me. You're probably right, too, I have a _lot_ of books," she added lightly, and smiled at Minerva before she threw the powder into the fire.

When she stepped through, the sight of Severus sat in front of the fire reading greeted her. He peered over the top of the book at her.

"I didn't realise that going "out" would take you so long."

"I went to see my parents," was Hermione's short reply. She shook her head at him, realising just how unpleasant she was despite her plan to work things out, and stormed over to the bedroom before she said anything further.

"Of course you may have my bedroom in my chambers whilst I spend the night on the couch," he drawled sarcastically.

Hermione span around.

"You may think you own these chambers, but they belong to the school. You may think you own _me_, but rest assured that I belong to me alone. I am not some kind of pet that you can love and pet one moment and forget the next," Hermione cried. "Why? Tell me why you are suddenly so cold and horrible towards me? Is it because you had sex with a student? A _student_," she repeated when she saw him wince. "When you're around me does it still feel like you're dirty old Professor Snape and I'm an innocent student?"

"Shut up, you stupid girl," he said through gritted teeth. The book was in his lap, and even sat down he emanated intimidating power.

"I am not stupid," Hermione replied slowly, "and I am not a little girl. Fine, hate the reality we have made together. We have made choices, and this is where they have got us, and we can't go back now."

Severus must have seen some sense in her words as he didn't rebuke them, yet his dark eyes glittered darkly in the firelight.

She sucked in a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes briefly. Then she added softly, "Do you think that my actions last night were the result of alcohol, rather than what I actually wanted? It's been a long time, Severus, since I saw you as my teacher, back here in private at least. I meant what I said last night, and I don't regret anything that happened.

"Now, please, let's start again. Let's _try_ to be nice to each other. Like it was." Her voice trembled, with not a small amount of fear. She turned away to open the bedroom door and added, "Are you coming to bed or not? It's late."

As she glanced back over her shoulder, his eyes locked with hers, searching, and Hermione felt rooted to the spot, the intensity of his gaze pinning her down. He then looked down at his book and closed it slowly. He seemed to be thinking, carefully pondering her words and looking for any dishonesty.

Hermione sighed, not knowing what else to say to him. She didn't hear any reaction as she entered the bedroom, and began changing out of her clothes with jagged movements of anger. She tried to quell her frustration, but after such a long day it seemed futile.

"You're going to rip your clothes if you continue on in that manner."

The voice made her jump, and Severus fully entered the room. She held her shirt over her front to reserve her modesty, even though she knew it was a little late for that, and Severus hung up his robes and left, presumably into the bathroom.

Hermione, alone, got changed into her pyjamas, and folded her clothes neatly away.

"You can use the bathroom now."

Hermione didn't even look at him as she slipped by to go and wash and brush her teeth. When she returned, he was already under the cover, reading. She pulled out one of the research books from her workbag and crawled into the bed.

Her mind couldn't concentrate, and soon the effort of trying to read made her weary, and she laid the book on the bedside table. She glanced at Severus, and whilst he didn't say anything pleasant, he didn't say anything nasty either.

As she slid further under the sheets, thinking over the books she wanted to collect from the library, Minerva's voice came back to her.

_Oh, I never did give you that book. It doesn't matter, you probably have everything you need._

Everything she needed right here. She had a lot of books, but books were only so good. Right here…

Her eyes shot open and, suddenly awake, an idea began to form in her mind. Her heart thumped in her chest and her brain buzzed with the prospect of new information that could finally help her out.

She closed her eyes, pushing the thought to the back of her mind. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and she was going to need her sleep.

- - -

Sorry for the delay, my internet really does suck… Thanks to everyone that's read and reviewed :0)


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on. **  
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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty Two**

After a night of fitful sleep, Hermione dressed as quickly as she could and gathered up a few pieces of parchment and a quill and stuffed them into her bag. She then sped out of the bedroom, passed a thankfully silent Severus, and through the fire. Dumbledore's office was empty, and she finally realised how early she was.

Praying she wasn't intruding on anything or waking them up, she knocked on the door to Minerva and Albus' quarters. After a few seconds that felt like minutes, the door swung open.

"Hermione?" Minerva exclaimed, worry clear in her voice. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine, I guess. I just- I just wanted to ask you something."

Minerva gave her a searching look but stepped aside, and gestured for her to sit.

"Now, what is the matter?"

"I- At Christmas, Severus gave me a book, _Hogwarts: A History_, to be precise. It was the original – God knows how he found it – written by the Founders themselves." Minerva raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt, and let her continue, "Severus said something about the ghosts of the Founders…"

"Yes?" Minerva prompted as Hermione trailed off.

"Well, are there really ghosts of the Founders? Are they really in the castle?"

Minerva pursed her lips as she studied the young woman carefully.

"What good would it do you if they were?"

"So they _are_ real?" Hermione asked eagerly, leaning forward in her chair.

"I didn't say that."

"Minerva, you said yourself that all the information I need is probably here anyway. What is better than four of the greatest witches and wizards who are the founders of this very place?"

"Hermione, you must understand that the ghosts of the Founders being here is a myth to the few people that have even heard of it. It is merely a myth for many good reasons." She paused for a moment then asked, "Why do you ask such questions, anyway?"

"I need to speak with them," she replied boldly.

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"The only thing ridiculous is me not being able to help. You know what I've been researching, what I've been trying to make sense of, and I need to use any means necessary to figure everything out."

"The Founders are merely a myth for a _reason_, Hermione," Minerva repeated, her nostrils flaring slightly.

"Is it a good enough reason to justify me not being able to help us win this war?" The words were scathing but the tone was almost pleading as she leant back.

"The Founders are integral to the school's magic and safety. Albus is away right now, putting me in charge, and I will not be responsible for anything happening to people under my care."

"If they are so important to our safety, then it is so much more important that I talk to them."

Minerva sighed, but Hermione could at least see she was considering her appeal.

"When do you need to see them?" she asked eventually.

"As soon as possible."

Minerva glanced around as if searching for one last rebuttal, found none, and stood up and said, "There may be people in the corridors so we will have to go by Floo, but the nearest fire is at the bottom of the tower where they are."

Hermione nodded and joined Minerva by the fire.

"Fundator Tower."

Minerva gave Hermione a look that made it clear that she was to repeat nothing she had learnt that morning, and stepped into the flames. Hermione was soon by her side in what appeared to be an old teacher's chambers, suffering from years of neglect.

Dust clouds rose up behind them as Minerva led the way through a door that opened on to a staircase that spiralled upwards.

"Hasn't anyone ever used the Floo or found these stairs by accident?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"The stairs are blocked from the bottom."

"And the Floo?"

"I should hope my students don't use the network as they please, never mind know the name of the fire."

They carried on up the stairs in silence, and Hermione took to watching the scenery out of the windows. Hagrid's hut one moment, then the lake, then lawns, the roofs and turrets and courtyards from ever higher views.

Hermione wondered how the old witch could keep going when she herself was panting, but finally they halted. She watched as Minerva knocked on the door and waited. After a few moments, the mechanism of the door lock clicked, and the door swung open.

The first thing she noticed was not the sheer luxury of the furnishings, the rich hangings and tapestries or the many spongy armchairs, but the ever-present proof of neglect as thick layers of dust lined everything. _Well,_ she thought, _ghosts can hardly dust, and it's not like they'll choke on it_.

The second thing she noticed was the chill. _Of course, ghosts hardly need a fire_.

"Ah, Milady McGonagall, such a pleasure to see thee on such a fine day."

"Good morning, Godric," Minerva replied to the ghost that had swooped to see them.

"Who is this intruder?" said another male that Hermione assumed must be Salazar Slytherin.

"This is Hermione Granger, Head Girl, and this is Godric, Salazar, Rowena and Helga."

"Ah, so this is the child whom the Sorting Hat didn't deem fit to place in my house?" said a female voice, and Hermione identified the speaker as the ghost drifting forward through the chair she had been floating above.

"Never mind that, Rowena, why is she here?" Salazar snapped.

"I need to ask you some questions," Hermione replied, more confident than she felt.

"What type of questions?" Salazar asked suspiciously.

"Honestly, Salazar," Rowena reprimanded, "you'd think asking questions is a crime." She turned to Hermione. "What do you want to know?"

"We'll answer what we can!"

"Oh, do be quiet, Gryffindor."

"No, you-"

Helga saw Hermione's stunned face and sighed, "Men! What else can you expect? Now," she added, beckoning Hermione over to a ring of armchairs, "do sit down and ask, and we'll answer what we can."

"What is the nature of your questions?" Rowena inquired, floating above the chair seat in a disconcerting manner. "For Minerva to have brought you here to us, the information you seek must be of great importance."

"She seeks answers that we cannot give her, and although I am not entirely sure of what she wants to ask you, she is to be trusted," Minerva said. "I have to go now, though, as Albus has returned. I shall collect you later," she added to Hermione, nodded at the female ghosts, then turned to leave.

She paused at the sight of the two bickering males, and said pointedly, "I've seen first years squabble less than you. Having tantrums like little children is not the way to impress your guest."

She swept off, and as the door closed Rowena sighed wistfully, "Oh, why do all my best candidates end up in _his_ house? Now, kind Sirs, do sit down and be quiet."

Rather abashed, they came to rest over the chairs and completed the circle.

Godric seemed about to reply, and Rowena began to speak before he could, but it was Helga that made herself heard.

"Dear Rowena," she said as she leant closer, an amused smile on her near translucent features, "don't descend to his level. Besides, I though we were answering the girl's questions."

"Yes, of course… Now, ask away, and we'll answer what we can."

- - -

"So, let me see if I've got this right," Hermione said, scanning her scribbled notes. "You're all connected to the school, magically bonded?"

"Yes, when we made the school it was deeply infused with our magic."

"Which means that you help to control the wards, and other such magic, to help take the burden off the Headmaster?"

"When we died, we all decided that we wanted to watch over the school as ghosts-"

"Speak for yourself," Salazar muttered.

"- and when we came back, we found that our bonds with the school were so strong in life, that they remained in death. Most of the castle's magic falls with the Headmaster, but we are still able to do what we did since it was founded: protect its occupants."

Hermione nodded at Helga, and said, "Sort of like before, when Minerva felt Albus return. Since she is the next in command, when Albus leaves the school, the majority of the power falls to her?"

"Yes," Rowena said. "The power and magic of the school shifts to whoever can control it best and use it properly. To be a great Headmaster, you have to allow the magic and mind of the school to merge with you, and only then is the school truly safe."

"Can you- Can you override what the Headmaster does?"

"What do you mean?" Salazar said, and a stony silence settled amongst the group.

Hermione realised they had been telling her freely what she wanted to know, but now, when it got to something that blatantly screamed subterfuge, she had to tread carefully.

"I guess I'd better explain."

Carefully, she told briefly of the Oracle, her orders, how Severus was connected, and of what she saw of the future. When she finished, the four ghosts exchanged looks, but Salazar was the first to speak.

"So, you're the one doing the unspeakable with the Potions Master."

Hermione blushed, but wouldn't allow herself to look away.

"You want to know about the school's protection. You know that the Death Eaters and Voldemort are to come, that it is inevitable. So why are you asking this?" Rowena asked.

"I know the school's protection is the best it can be, and that with enemies trying to attack, it will be difficult to get in." Hermione sighed, the words feeling like betrayal as they rolled of her tongue. "For it to go like it did in my vision, they would have to overturn the school grounds by late afternoon or the evening, so they can perform their rituals. To stop the rituals they need to be beaten by nightfall, or they will probably just go ahead with them anyway."

"What are you getting at?" Godric asked, eyes narrowed.

"Your first instinct is to keep them out for as long as possible, but at some time they will have to break through the wards. I think that the earlier we- we kill them and defeat them, then the less chance they have of completing the ceremonies. After that, it is too late. Rather than attack them whilst they are trying to get through the wards, I think we should get into place, then let them in."

"Are you insane?" Helga exclaimed.

"She may have a point," Salazar said, although it was clear he didn't want to agree with her. "Here, on the school grounds, on our own turf, we will have more chance of winning. We know the best places, the quirks of the school, and if all else fails, we still have a chance of us Founders being able to help."

All eyes were darting between Hermione and Salazar, all faces full of unease.

"Do you really think that it would work?" Helga asked eventually.

"The most important thing is to stop Voldemort and the Death Eaters performing that ceremony. If we don't, then there is no point in anything else. The earlier we stop him, the better."

"So what is it you're asking us to do?" Godric said, surprisingly solemn.

"I…" She faltered. She hadn't been expecting to get this far. "I guess I am asking you to keep up the wards until we are all ready, then let them down. If you can release the wards only at certain parts, so only a few Death Eaters can get through at one time, it will make the onslaught less vicious."

"You know this is crazy," Helga said weakly.

"That might just be why it will work," Godric responded.

"Does Albus know anything of this yet?" Hermione shook her head at Rowena, who added, "Don't worry, we shall see to it that he understands."

"So- So you're going to do it?"

"Hermione," Rowena laughed darkly, "you seem to have spent the afternoon building up to this, propositioning your idea, and expecting us to laugh and tell you you're idea is hopeless? Whilst it is an odd idea, under the circumstances, we think it will work."

Hermione frowned and shivered slightly. She had a feeling that they knew more than they should about what was going on behind the scenes since the Oracle's visits.

"And now you should go back to your quarters and rest," Helga said. "You have been working incredibly hard, and school will be restarting soon."

"Child," Rowena said, "you are amazing. Even if all this was supposed to be kept a secret." Hermione started and looked up at her in surprise. Rowena smiled slightly, and added, "Some rules are made to be broken, or whatever that saying is."

"I say it takes bravery to know when to follow the rules and when to do the right thing," Godric's voice rang out proudly. " If you had kept it secret, then the outcome would be different, and probably for the worse."

"Just be careful," Salazar said. "The time is full of danger, and getting yourself hurt or discovered will ruin everything. Keep calm in a crisis, as there are sure to be many, and you should be fine."

"Always the voice of doom, Salazar," Helga muttered, but floated upwards as if to stand up, and the others did the same.

"Farewell," they all said.

Rowena drifted over towards the door and made it swing open. Outside stood Minerva, hand raised to knock on the wood.

"Thank you, so, so much," Hermione said humbly. She smiled at Godric and Salazar, who bowed, and at Helga who curtsied, and walked to the door.

"We'll sort everything out," Rowena said cryptically, ignoring Minerva's puzzled look.

"Thank you," Hermione repeated, and with her scribbled notes clutched dearly to her, she followed Minerva down the stairs in silence, the advice from the Founders circling her mind.

When they returned to Minerva and Albus' quarters, Minerva said, "I hope that was informative."

"Very," Hermione said distractedly, knowing that Minerva wanted her to elaborate. "Thank you for taking me."

"Hmm," Minerva drawled, and watched as she dreamily walked to the fire and grabbed a handful of Floo powder and called her destination.

Hermione stepped out of the fire, expecting to be berated by questions, but silence greeted her. Wondering why Severus was ignoring her, she pushed open the door to the bedroom and went in, but Severus was not there.

Frantically, she searched each room to no avail. Finally, she stopped, and a shiver went through her body.

Salazar's voice: _keep calm in a crisis_.

The words did nothing to steady her. Slowly, gingerly, she opened the wardrobe where she knew his Death Eater robe and mask were kept, and peered into the corner where they were usually hung.

It was empty.

Meanwhile, many miles away, a black clad figure writhed around on the ground in agony.

His tormentor raised his wand again and repeated the Unforgivable.

"_Crucio."_

- - -

A massive thanks to everyone that's read and reviewed :0)


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty Three **

A shiver ran through Hermione's body, waking her up. She didn't remember sitting down on the couch, but as she sat up, that was where she found herself.

Slowly, her senses caught up with her. Severus… Missing… Alone…

Stumbling around the obstacles in her way, head still fuzzy with sleep, she dodged the chairs and tables and flung the bedroom door open.

Empty.

The bathroom was the same, and his despised cloak and mask were nowhere to be found.

Fear flooded her veins, pumping rapidly round her body, rendering her unable to move. She leant backwards against the cool wall, head tilted back, eyes closed.

_Of course he could be called away at any moment_, she told herself. It wasn't as if the Dark Lord's calls were anything new, but rationalising things didn't seem to work. Nervous energy fuelled her pacing; a few steps in one direction, turn, a few steps that way.

The whoosh of the dwindling fire rekindling caught her attention, and a second later, Minerva was stood before her.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" she asked, seeing the hopeful expression on her face be quashed by one of distress.

"Sorry. I thought you were Severus."

"Why? Where is he?"

"Don't you know?"

"Know what?" Minerva frowned.

"He's not here. I got back last night and he wasn't here," Hermione said helplessly. "His Death Eater robes and mask were gone." She studied Minerva's face intently. "You didn't know he was gone?"

"No, I didn't, but don't worry," Minerva said, although it lacked conviction.

Suddenly feeling very small and out of place in the quarters, Hermione signalled for Minerva to sit down and said, "Coffee?"

"No, thank you," she replied as she sat down. "I only came to arrange tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"The other students will be returning."

"Oh, yes, of course," Hermione said absently, dropping into one of the chairs.

"Since you went on the train, you'll have to return on it to minimise suspicion. I'll take you to the platform in the morning by portkey where you'll catch the train with Harry, Ron and the others." Hermione nodded. Minerva stood, and added, "He'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning."

With a last glance, she returned through the fire.

With nothing else to do, Hermione went through the rooms gathering up her books, quills, parchment, clothes, toothbrush and other belongings, amazed at how quickly she had grown used to living in the quarters.

She packed everything away in her rucksacks except for a change of clothes, and went to run a hot bath. Strong scents filled the air and she stripped and stepped in, then sank under the bubbles.

All afternoon she thought about him. Whether she was sat wrinkled from the bath, reading, or in a restless sleep, all her attention soon reverted back to him. After another failed attempt at reading her Transfiguration textbook, she closed it and set it down with a sigh. She was worried for him. She missed him. That couldn't mean-? They couldn't be-?

_Don't be ridiculous,_ she thought, and any retorts were cut short as she drifted off into a troubled sleep.

- - -

Hermione gazed around the room, knowing she wouldn't be seeing it for a while. She was exhausted as her sporadic fits of uneasy, dream-filled sleep had done nothing to refresh her, and eventually she had given up trying. Instead she was sat on the bed, studying the room, committing it all to memory.

The large wardrobe, the bedside table laden with books, the feel of the comfy mattress, the cold of the empty place beside her.

Still no Severus.

Seconds passed like minutes, and she was making her way through into the main room to make herself another drink – partly to replace her lukewarm one, mainly to give her something to do – when the fire flared green.

"Good morning," Minerva said, but received a disappointed frown in return. Thankfully, she didn't comment, choosing to merely wait in silence.

Hermione got her bags and returned to find her professor ready and waiting, turning a scrap piece of parchment over in her fingers – presumably the portkey – and a house elf by her side.

"Your bags will be taken up to Gryffindor Tower; I'm sure Mr Weasley won't mind you helping with his luggage as before. Now, this will take us to the platform, but more precisely into a small room for the staff so we will be hidden from view. I'll watch you meet up with the others then return here. "

Hermione nodded and reached out to touch the parchment. A few seconds later, she found herself in a very small office laden with plastic Muggle coffee cups and old newspapers, not to mention the remains of half eaten food.

"Out there, turn right, and they should be around the corner."

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiled up at the older witch, then slipped out inconspicuously.

Minerva watched as she went right, walked down, then paused at the corner and glance back with a slight nod. Satisfied, she returned to the castle.

Around the corner, Hermione found Harry, Ron and Ginny, who all rushed to see her. After many hugs and greetings, they boarded the train, Hermione carrying Ron's second bag, and found an empty compartment.

Taking a seat by the window, Hermione did a double take. A woman with shoulder length light-blue hair sat on one of the benches, reading the _Daily Prophet_, and passed her a man hobbled, a hat pulled down over his grizzled mane.

"I didn't know Tonks and Moody were here," Hermione exclaimed softly.

"Yeah," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "And Remus and Shacklebolt. Like I'm going to be attacked here."

For a moment they were quiet and solemn, until Ron pulled out the remains of an Easter egg and handed it round. Soon discussion turned to what they had been doing over the holidays, and suddenly, it was like normal again.

But only when the carriage door burst open did it feel like they were back in their painful routine. Draco Malfoy stood at the door, smirk firmly on his face and cronies at his side, ready to strike.

Malfoy looked round at each occupant, then, seeing the last few pieces of chocolate, picked one up and ate it.

"Get out, Malfoy," Ron burst out.

"Wow, Weasley, I know you can't afford to buy much food, but it was only a piece of chocolate," Malfoy snorted.

Harry jumped up, ready to attack, and Ginny stood up, mainly to hold Ron back, although there wasn't much effort in her grasp.

"Get lost, Malfoy. We don't want you here," Harry said quietly.

"Why, Potter? What are you going to do about it?"

From behind her book, Hermione snorted. "What are _you_ going to do, Malfoy, bore us all to death?" she asked. "Go away; we didn't call for entertainment."

Malfoy stepped closer, ignoring the others now.

"Cocky little Mudblood," he spat. "Soon justice will be done to the real wizards and witches of this world, and you'll find out what it's really like to cross a Malfoy."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh, I can't wait for justice to be done. Real justice, not yours."

"A bit agitated, today, Mudblood. Is there someone out there you _care_ about on the receiving edge of some of _my_ type of justice?" he laughed.

Hermione knuckles whitened as she gripped the edges of her book, but she looked Malfoy determinedly in the eye. The arrogant Slytherin merely laughed cruelly, glanced derogatorily at everyone, and left.

When the door closed, Harry, Ginny and Ron turned to Hermione.

"What was that all about?"

Hermione shrugged and said, "I have no idea. Just one of his idle threats, I guess."

Harry frowned and countered, "Maybe they're not as idle as they once were."

Hermione brought the book to her chest, hugging it tightly, and hoped to any deity that was listening that Severus was alright, and that the Malfoys didn't know as much as Draco had insinuated.

The rest of the journey after that was quiet, and the feeling of slight discomfiture was only quelled when they entered the castle once more.

As soon as they entered the Great Hall, Hermione scanned the High Table, and tried not to let fear overcome her as she saw the empty seat of Severus.

Thousands of twinkling stars intermingled with the patches of dark, the swirling colours of the enchanted ceiling reflecting the sky outside. As Hermione sat down to eat, she looked up and watched the stars as they were swallowed up by the darkness, and others emerged from the cover of the clouds.

Dumbledore's speech passed in a haze, and only when conversation erupted around her did she realise the meal had started. She helped herself to small portions of the rich food surrounding her, ignoring the looks of concern shared by her friends.

She had positioned herself so she could see the door and High Table, and every couple of minutes she glanced at the door, as if every look would bring Severus closer.

Harry and the other Gryffindors seemed to have noticed the absence of their Potions Professor, and were concocting wicked tales of why he might not have made it.

"Why do _you _reckon he's not here, Hermione?" Harry asked. "I mean, you probably know him better than all we do."

Hermione restrained a scowl. She should have known he wouldn't let her off easily after all her time spent with Severus.

"I don't know, but I doubt any of your theories are true." The other Gryffindors turned away, back to their own scheming, and she whispered to Harry and Ron, "Maybe he's got in trouble doing something for the Order."

The words had their intended effect and the two boys shared a guilty look, before turning back to their food. Hermione began to prod at her new potatoes, moving them around the plate, when the doors to the Great Hall opened.

Some of the other students were hoping for a Moody-like entrance of some grizzled wizard or pretty witch, but instead, in walked Severus Snape. Hermione was probably the only one happy to see him, and she studied him intently. He was pale, even more so than normal, and looked exhausted, but he still held his imposing air as he mounted the teachers' platform and took his place.

Hermione tried to catch his eye, but he merely ignored the students as he listened to Minerva talk for a moment before he was left in peace. When the attention of the school was distracted once again, he allowed himself to glance up, glare at a few of the children, then make brief eye contact with Hermione.

He looked ill and haggard, but Hermione repeated to herself that he was probably lucky to be alive. She relaxed slightly and put another spoonful of carrots and a piece of meat on her plate.

"Whoa, Hermione, don't go getting greedy now," Ron teased through a mouthful of mashed potato, and received an elbow in the ribs courtesy of Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but accepted where Ron was coming from. After a moment, Harry leant in.

"Look, guys, I want to talk to you both later, privately," he said quietly. "Be ready to go at nine tonight."

Ron and Hermione shared a worried look and she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he assured them, and added, "I just… have a few things that I think you need to know."

"Okay, then, mate," Ron said slowly.

Harry smiled at them both in reply. "Don't worry."

- - -

"God, having the Map would make life so much easier," Harry muttered as he opened the door to the Owlery.

"It's better connected to the wards," Hermione said, and stepped from under the Invisibility Cloak. "It's a good job most of the professors and so occupied; we'd have never made it here without being caught."

"Isn't my fault Lanky here is about a foot taller than us both," Harry grinned.

"Hey, there's something to be said about size," he replied in a wise voice, causing the other two to snort. "Anyway, what did you want to tell us?"

The trio fell sombre, Ron and Hermione sensing that this was not a laughing matter.

"Well…" Harry trailed off and walked over to the window. It was only just dark outside, and the warm breeze ruffled his already unruly hair. "I don't know where to start."

"At the beginning?" Hermione suggested softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You sound like Dumbledore…"

"I'm not sure whether to be pleased or offended," Hermione said dryly.

"The beginning. Well, you know about how I was saved from Voldemort because my mum sacrificed her life for me and her love saved me. The curse gave me my scar," Harry said, gesturing at his forehead. "Voldemort marked me. As his equal."

"What are you getting at, Harry?" Ron said uncertainly when Harry paused.

"There's- When we went to the Ministry of Magic and saw the prophecy on the shelf… When I got back here, Dumbledore explained to me what that prophecy was."

Hermione closed her eyes, not wanting to hear what was coming.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not_..." Harry recited monotonously, his back to them, unable to look at them._ "And either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies_..." He shrugged. "Me."

"Jeez, you can recite a stupid prophecy, but you could never stick to a game plan, never mind how often Oliver drilled it into our heads!"

"Ron…"

The forced smile on his face melted as he shook his head vigorously.

"No! Come on, you must have heard it wrong or-"

"I've repeated it to myself every night since Dumbledore told me about, it," Harry said quietly. "I guess I've kind of accepted it, now. That doesn't mean I _like_ it," he said with a small laugh, but it sounded strained.

Hermione sighed and said, "It's a good job we know that Harry's going to beat Voldemort once and for all, then."

"How can you be so calm and sure, like you don't care?" Ron cried, turning on her.

"Of course I care, Ron, I'm just… God, Harry. Why didn't you tell us before?"

"I knew you'd worry," he said simply.

"Worry?" Ron exclaimed. "_Worry?_ That's what we're supposed to do. We're your friends, you tell us stuff, then we try to figure it all out!"

"I'm in this alone. I can't put you two in danger."

"Harry, we're your best friends, and we're in this war whether we – or you – like it or not," Hermione said.

"You should have told us sooner," Ron said weakly, disbelief clear on his face.

"Don't get angry at me for trying to protect you," Harry said, voice growing louder. "You don't know what I've been through!"

"Calm down."

"How can you tell me that, Hermione? You have no idea what it's like to have such a thing hanging over your head, to have your future planned for you."

Hermione pursed her lips, practising utmost self-restraint. "You're right," she said eventually. "I have no idea at all."

"I've dealt with it, accepted it, now it's your turn."

Hermione turned away, repeating the prophecy in her mind. She wished he would have told them, but realised what a hypocrite she was being. She rubbed her forehead and frowned.

"Have you told Ginny?" Ron asked.

"No. I wanted to tell you two first. I'll tell her soon."

Silence descended on them for a few moments, punctuated only by soft hoots and the sound of an owl returning for the night. Eventually, it was Ron who spoke first.

"You know Hermione's right, don't you, mate? You're not going into this alone. We're your best friends if you like it or not, and you're not leaving us behind whilst you have all the fun kicking Voldemort's arse," he said with a grin, but his voice was quiet and calm, utterly sincere.

Harry continued to hold his gaze for a few seconds, then laughed softly as he shook his head. To his surprise, Hermione rushed forward and enveloped him in a crushing hug. She ached to tell him she understood the pressure, the frustration, the anger, to tell them both of what had been governing her life for the past few months.

Ron joined them and slung an arm around Hermione's shoulders and clapped Harry on the back reassuringly.

"Thanks, you two," Harry said quietly. "It means a lot…"

They stayed like that for a while longer, until Hermione drew away, her smile laced with regret.

"Look, we'd better get back to our rooms," she said tiredly.

Without another word, the trio were under the Invisibility Cloak and were on their way back to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione desperately wanted to go and see Severus, but she knew she couldn't without raising many unwanted questions.

She sank into an uneasy sleep as soon as her head hit her pillow. Her dreams were tainted with prophecies and death and destruction that night, although when she woke up the following morning, she couldn't remember exactly what they were.

Although, she reasoned, that probably wasn't a bad thing.

- - -

A massive thanks to everyone that's read and reviewed, you make me a very happy bunny :0D


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty Four**

"Miss Granger, I want a word about your project."

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes and hurried off when the bell rang out. The others swept past her too and left the dungeons, leaving her alone with Severus.

With a wave of his wand the door was locked and the wards were put in place, and he led her through to his office. He stood looking at her for a while, their argument echoing through his thoughts.

"I-" they began at the same time, and stopped.

"I apologise for arguing with you," he said, awkward but sincere, clearly not used to saying he's sorry.

"It's okay," Hermione replied. "I know it must be hard for you, being my teacher and everything… Shall we- Shall we just ignore the whole thing and carry on?"

"I think that would be the best idea," he said dryly, and sat down behind his desk.

Hermione sat too, and asked, "You were… called away. You are ok?"

Severus sighed. "Yes. The reason I was called to the Dark Lord was because of my interrogation skills. He wanted me to put the new Death Eaters through their paces, testing them for their loyalty… I had to… test a few of his older supporters, too. He suspects there are traitors amongst his followers, and it has been my job to screen them."

"I guess it's a good job it was you doing the 'testing'," Hermione said quietly.

"I've lasted this long," he said pointedly. "However, the Dark Lord wants young Malfoy to keep an eye out. No doubt that Draco will be watching me, and probably you, too."

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded.

"Don't worry, we've got this far."

"You know, I never saw you as the comforting type," Hermione snorted.

"Merely trying to prevent emotional imbalance that will lead to disaster," he drawled. "What I really wanted to talk to you about was a meeting with the Order. The Headmaster and Minerva want to outline your plan and some of the information to them."

"_My_ plan?"

"Well, considering what you ordered the ghosts to do, we need _someone_ to blame."

"I preferred you when you were preventing emotional imbalance," she muttered.

"Albus, Minerva, the Founders and I have discussed what you have told us and your ideas, and other information from other sources. We think that it may work. You are invited to sit in on the meeting at Grimmauld Place where we will tell the higher ranking Order members."

"And how would my presence be explained?" Hermione asked, although it was clear she wanted to go.

"You are Hermione Granger." When she frowned at him, he added, "You are Head Girl, and will need to know for when the time comes so you can guide the students."

"Okay then. When is it?"

"This Friday. Come here after your last lesson just as if you were going to continue your research."

Hermione nodded and stood. She remained still for a moment, as if torn between what to do next. She soon caved in and moved over towards Severus, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're okay."

She knew it was an understatement, and judging by the slight surprise that graced his features, then the small quirk of his lips into a smile, he knew it too.

"And I'm sorry for arguing with you, Severus. I hope you believe me when I say I don't regret it. I… rather enjoyed that night."

A bright flush quickly appeared at her cheeks, but she did not turn away. He looked up at her, as if reassuring himself that she spoke the truth, then brought his hand to rest on hers. As his thumb traced soft patterns on the back of her hand, her eyes slowly began to close and she let out a contented sigh.

They stayed like that for a few more moments in silent understanding, until Hermione let out another sigh, only this time one of frustration.

"I should go, shouldn't I?"

"Yes, probably," he replied quietly, but he did not remove his hand from hers.

She opened her eyes and smiled down at him, an open, honest smile that never failed to leave Severus amazed.

"I'll see you on Friday."

He nodded and squeezed her hand gently before allowing her to pull away. She picked up her bag and walked over to the door. Severus eyed her, his fingers steepled together, and sighed.

"Be careful, Hermione. You never know when you're being watched."

- - -

"Where are you going?"

Hermione stopped herself from groaning and turned to look at her two best friends.

"I have to go and see to my potions work, guys, you know that."

"Come on, Hermione. Is it really more important than us?"

Hermione scowled at Ron.

"Why haven't we stopped arguing this year?" she said tiredly. "You know this project is important to me, and I've almost finished. I'm not going to risk ruining it, especially after all I've done so far." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Look, I haven't been to the dungeons all this week, but I need to now for a few hours. Why don't you take this opportunity to actually start on some of your NEWT essays?"

A small part of her felt hypocritical – her NEWT essays had stalled, standing at rough outlines – but she reminded herself that there were actually more important things.

"And how about tomorrow we go to Hogsmeade and relax?" she suggested.

"Okay," Harry said, almost reluctantly. Hermione could tell they were trying to be calm and supportive, but it was proving hard for them.

"You guys don't need to try to watch over me all the time and keep me safe, you know."

"You know we just care for you, right?" Ron said. "I hate seeing you work so hard and make yourself ill."

"I'm fine. Really. Now, I need to go." She smiled apologetically at them and hurried off, hoping that she wouldn't be too late. By the time she pushed the classroom door open, she was panting slightly, and her hair was out of place. Severus was waiting at his desk, and she redid her plait as she approached him.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were going to turn up," he said, standing up to lead through to his quarters.

"I've had enough of arguing, Severus." Hermione dumped her bag under the table and turned to him. "When are we going?"

"We'll go up to the Headmaster's office now," Severus replied.

"I can't believe that it's actually come to this," Hermione said quietly, and saw his confused expression. "War, I mean. I knew it was inevitable, but… War. And with a plan that I practically concocted."

"Whatever is destroyed in the world, war will always go on. As for the plan, Albus, Minerva and select members of the Order have refined your ideas, and added to them."

"Like?"

"You're going to find out in a minute."

"What if someone tries to find either of us whilst we're out. It's just our luck," Hermione said darkly.

"I've set the wards and put charms in place to repel people. Don't worry."

Hermione bit back a retort about naturally repelling people as Severus threw Floo powder into the hearth, and in a few moments, they were stood in Dumbledore's office.

Minerva, Albus, Moody and a couple of people Hermione didn't recognise turned to look at them.

"Ah, so we can be on our way," Albus said brightly, standing up.

The other adults stood up and gathered around the fire. Moody's eyes span round in its socket as he smiled politely at Hermione – at sight that was rather unnerving. Minerva placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and returned a knowing glance, as the man and woman looked at her suspiciously.

"This is Hermione Granger," Minerva said wryly, "so there's no need to be so hostile."

"Oh, we didn't realise," said the woman, the American twang sounding odd. She stepped forward, arm outstretched. "I'm Amanda, and this is my partner, Jackson. We didn't mean to be rude."

As Hermione shook hands, obviously shocked, Jackson asked, "Considering everything, I doubt she really needs to come to this meeting. Unless she's going to take it or something."

"Shut up," Amanda hissed.

"I will be taking the meeting, Miss Granger will merely be sitting in," Albus said. "I will explain when we are at Grimmauld Place."

With that, he stepped through the fire, and the room slowly emptied, until Minerva, Hermione and Severus were left.

"Why did being told my name bring about such a change?" Hermione asked, dazed.

"They've heard a lot about you," Minerva said shortly, then stepped into the fire.

"They know you are a reliable source of information, even if they don't the details, and your plan of action has no doubt earned you their respect," Severus explained, then added dryly, "at least from one of the pair. Go now; I shall follow you."

The room was large but crowded, and as Hermione stumbled in, most of them glanced her way. Molly, Remus, Shacklebolt, Mundungus and most of the other Order members Hermione knew were sat down, talking quietly amongst themselves. Minerva was with Albus at the head of the large table in the middle, around which everyone else was seated.

"Go over to Minerva."

Hermione started and said quietly, "You'd think I'd expect you to sneak up on me. Professor."

Severus snorted softly, and Hermione made her way around nearer to her Head of House, who pointed at two chairs to her right.

"We're not sitting up here, are we?" she exclaimed.

"Unless you wish to rearrange the seating arrangements of the whole room. Sit."

Hermione blinked at Minerva, but the seriousness of the meeting and what was to be said was clear. Sitting down between Minerva and Severus, she glanced around and received curious looks in return.

At last, Dumbledore, at the head of the table to Minerva's left, stood up. The room fell silent immediately.

"First of all I welcome you all to this meeting. I wish that we were all gathered here for better news, but these are grim times." He sighed heavily. "Today we have members who seem new, but they have been working tirelessly in other parts of the world. Amanda Langley and Jackson Bailey have been leading the members in American, Marie Delaney in France, and Anselmo Guerra from Spain," he said, nodded at each representative in turn. "But now we really must press on. We have a lot to discuss. Minerva?"

As Minerva stood up, Hermione shot a puzzled look at Severus, who whispered, "Do you remember when I said Minerva was inventive and to be feared? It makes her an excellent battle planner."

Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly but leant back in her chair to listen. Minerva stood straight, a different type of authority exuding from her. To tell the truth, it was almost terrifying.

"I ask you not to question where we have got our information from or interrupt unnecessarily. I'll make this as brief as I can without leaving out important details; the finer aspects will be discussed in a few days. Now, please excuse my bluntness, but this is not a subject which can or deserves to be handled any other way." She cast her glance around the room then drew in a deep, steadying breath. "Firstly, we think that the attack is going to be around the 10th of July, which is a full moon."

As Minerva spoke, Hermione kept her head down, expression impassive, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Remus shake his head in disappointment.

"The take over of Hogwarts would be a lengthy process, so they will come early in the morning, probably at dawn. We will be prepared. However, the wards cannot last for long."

"What are you insinuating?" asked a wizard near the back who Hermione didn't recognise.

Minerva sighed. "The wards will fail eventually, there is no doubt about it. The castle has defences, but it is a place of learning, not of fighting. We must use this to our advantage. If we lower the wards at certain points, then the Death Eaters will be bottlenecked and will only be able to enter the grounds a small number at a time. This means that we will be able to focus our attentions on a smaller group, rather than try to defend ourselves from a great number of the enemy from all directions."

Around the table, a few people nodded, and a couple murmured their agreement.

"But what then? What about the children?" This time it was Molly Weasley speaking, her expression understandably anxious.

"We think the best place for them is in their common rooms."

"They will just want to go for Potter, won't they? Give him to them, and save the others!"

"Jackson!" Amanda berated. "For God's sake, man, shut up."

Some shared uneasy looks, others clearly had been thinking along the same lines.

"The best interests of the children have been taken into consideration when making this plan." Albus' voice cut through any noise, and the Order members turned back to him as he sat calmly in his chair. "However, we don't believe that it is as simple as we would hope."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked, narrowing his eyes.

Minerva replied quietly, "We think that- that he wants to make himself pure. He wants to – in his eyes – become a pureblood."

Shocked gasps erupted as they all contemplated and speculated what this could mean. Hermione, however, hung her head and bit her lip. She was their source of this information. It was harder to tell them what she had seen, but it was still hard to hear it.

"Please tell me you're not feeling guilty," Severus whispered.

She glanced sideways at him, but before she could reply, someone asked, "And how exactly does he plan to do that? What does it mean for us?"

Minerva shook her head and looked away, unable to meet anyone's eyes. Instead, Severus explained, his voice low and calm, "For such a ritual, certain ingredients are needed for the potion. In this case, it would require virgin blood. The younger girls will be targeted, but they will want older victims for their increased magical potency. It means that we have to stop them by nightfall when the ritual will take place."

So straightforward, so mater of fact… Hermione shivered. Without looking up she knew that all eyes were on her.

"So- So what do we do?" Molly choked.

"As I said, the safest place for them is in their common room. The older, stronger ones must protect the others," Minerva said.

"I'll tell the other prefects nearer the time," Hermione said, a fierce undercurrent clear in her voice. "I'll make sure they can keep them safe."

"I trust you won't excessively worry them?" Minerva replied darkly.

"No more than I need to."

"Good."

Albus stood up and Minerva sat, and the Headmaster said calmly, "You've had a lot to take in tonight, so I'll let you go now. We'll have another meeting in a two nights to go over the finer details and questions you undoubtedly will have. Good night, and remember to not discuss this where others may hear you."

Most of the Order began to file out of the room, but Molly and Remus waited behind.

"Harry and Ron won't like you being here without them," Molly said wryly, after pulling Hermione into a hug.

"They don't have to like it. Besides, they won't even know," Hermione sighed.

"I guess that was a lot to hear," Remus said sadly, squeezing her shoulder supportively. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Severus scowl.

"It's inevitable," she shrugged in response. "I suppose we now just need to concentrate on getting through this." With a quick smile at Molly and Remus, Hermione walked over to Severus. "Well, that was fun."

"You did well. Especially since you'd never heard any of that before…" Severus remarked quietly, watching the last members clear the room.

"If they were told where we got our information from then things would be twice as complicated. At least we have some idea as to what is going to happen," Minerva said.

"Now, before we get you back to the castle," Albus began, his blue eyes searching Hermione's, "I want you to promise me something. Your exams are drawing nearer, and you have done all you can. Promise me that you are going to return to your normal Head Girl duties and put your efforts into getting the results you deserve. Spend time with your friends, and leave _us_ to do the worrying and the work."

Hermione frowned but nodded. "Of course I'm going to focus more on my exams, I've nearly finished the coursework, I've not been neglecting my duties, and our friendship has grown stronger, even if that's not obvious. However, don't expect me not to worry. And it would be nice if I was kept in the loop."

The Headmaster chuckled. "Of course. Now, back to school and to bed."

- - -

Thank you for reading and for all your lovely reviews :0D


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty Five **

Severus couldn't help but watch her. He knew he shouldn't, but that didn't stop him. In his lesson, where she deftly prepared her ingredients and concocted potions with an ease beyond even his expectations. In the Great Hall as she sat eating – with decent helpings at last – with her book propped up against a jug of pumpkin juice. Even outside as she lay by the lake with her friends in the sun, chatting and laughing.

Severus understood people, he was very proud of it, and took pleasure from the fact that he could. However, he couldn't understand what this meant. Or, perhaps, he was in denial.

How could the Oracle have manipulated his life? All he'd wanted for years gone by was to have his own life, to not be in servitude to achieve someone else's greater scheme. Yet here he was, his whole life changed, all because of one woman.

He sighed, clouding up the window and blocking Hermione from view. Gathering up the books he had came for, he left the library in a swirl of robes.

- - -

"Come on, Hermione, you can stop revising for just a few minutes," Ron begged. "It's not as if you don't know everything already."

"Come and have a little fun," Ginny said, prodding her gently with her elbow.

Hermione sighed. There was more to life than exams, and although it felt treacherous to think it, it was true.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Harry grinned mischievously. "How about…"

"We steal Hermione's bag so she can't study!" Ron said, standing up, and snatched the satchel before Hermione could grab it.

"Come on, Ron, give it back!"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Where's the fun in being hexed. Now give it to me!" Hermione commanded, standing up.

"It's just a bit of _fun_," Harry soothed.

Hermione and Ron stood facing each other, a few paces apart. Ron clearly looked nervous, and wasn't expecting it when Hermione started to run at him.

"Harry, help!"

Ginny bent double laughing as Harry pelted off, trying to rescue his best friend.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, what have you got in here? Bricks?" Ron's arms were already growing tired with carrying the heavy bulk, and he tried to throw it to Harry, but didn't fling it hard enough.

"You better not have broken anything," Hermione said, hands on hips as she looked at the bag at Harry's feet.

"Sorry," Ron muttered.

"You better be." Again, she darted at him, and their laughter carried across the lawns as they chased each other. Ginny joined them and the girls ganged up on the other two.

"You know, Ron, I think we've been outwitted."

"What do you mean?"

Harry gestured behind them to the jetty, their only way of escape.

"Oh. Yeah. It's only water, and they're only girls," he teased, "so what's there to be afraid of? Uh oh."

Hermione and Ginny shared twin grins and shot forward, Hermione pushing Harry and Ginny her brother off the end and into the water. Doubled up with laughter as Ron attempted to fend off one of the Giant Squid's tentacles, they didn't see Harry emerge from under the water to drag them in too.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Ginny exclaimed, pushing hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah, well," Ron said, struggling about in the water, "you're our friends so you have to share our misery."

Hermione noticed as Harry's smile faltered slightly, and she placed a hand on his arm. "Shall we go rescue Ron. I don't think he appreciates the squid's affections."

"Nah, he's having fun really. Those shrieks are really of joy, and-"

"Oh, come on and help me," Ron yelled, not liking the way a tentacle was wrapping around his leg.

The other three shared amused looks and swam over to help him.

- - -

After catching their breaths they headed inside to shower before tea, for, as Ron put it, "we do smell bad, but at least you lot don't smell as if you've been molested by a giant squid…".

Ron went ahead with Ginny, complaining that sisters were supposed to stick up for their brothers, but Harry hung back. Hermione waited for him, and they walked up to the school together.

"What's up?"

"I don't know…" Harry said, shaking his head. "This is supposed to be the best times of our life. It's just that… every time we have a bit of fun, I worry that we won't be having many more times like it together."

"Oh, Harry. We're all worried about the war. I- I don't know the scale of how you feel, or the pressure, but we're here for you. And you're not going to be rid of us anytime soon, I can assure you of that."

Harry smiled slightly, then frowned. "I- I'm not really supposed to say anything, but Dumbledore talked to me the other day. He told me about the plan and stuff and what's to be expected and gave one of those brave and noble speeches he does. I'm… scared. What if I don't win? What if-"

Hermione cut him off with a huge hug and whispered into his ear, "Of course you're scared; you'd be a fool not to be. We all are. But you're not going to win a war, Harry, that's impossible. That's where the rest of us come in. We are in this war together, and we shall not give up. _We _are going to fight, and we _are_ going to win."

Harry was silent for a moment, and Hermione suspected he was blinking away tears, until eventually he replied, "You know, your speeches are a lot better than Dumbledore's."

Hermione laughed, which in turn drew a smile from Harry, and they walked into the dim Entrance Hall arm in arm. They were halfway up the stairs when a voice caused them to turn around.

"Potter, Miss Granger, would one of you deign to tell me why you are dripping wet? Look at the mess you've made on the floor."

Hermione glanced behind her and finally noticed the slick path of water they'd left behind. They'd done quick drying spells before heading back, but apparently it wasn't enough to completely banish the large volume of water they'd managed to soak up.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, glaring at Snape. "We fell into the lake by accident."

"Thirty poi-"

"I'll clean it up," Hermione cut across, pulling out her wand, and quickly dried the trails the four of them had left with a quick wave. "We'd better go and get cleaned up before we catch a cold," she added brightly to Harry.

"Detention, Miss Granger, and I don't want a repeat performance of such idiocy and disrespect," Severus said. "Understood? Good, now go."

They hurried up the stairs, their robes held up off the floor, until they were out of earshot. Harry stopped and gaped at Hermione, laughing in amazement.

"You have some balls, talking to him like that."

"No, Harry, women don't have balls," she replied, feigning a mocking tone. "That's why we're the better half of the species."

"Hey, I'm not going to argue," Harry said with a laugh, shaking his head.

"I can't believe he gave me detention, though," she said, frowning.

"Come on, Hermione, he's still the bastard we know and do not love." Harry's mind quickly brought up images of her on Snape's bed, calling out his name, of her in the hospital telling him what to do… There was no doubt working with him had earned her some respect, but Snape was never going to change. Harry just sighed, and for once forced himself not to bring the subject up. Instead he replied, "Come on, let's go before Filch stops us. I'm not sure even you could charm your way out of that one. Literally or not…"

- - -

The next time Severus saw her when she wasn't in his class or in the Great Hall was on her way to her first exam. He missed her visits – that much he accepted to himself – and hoped that she would call one night. He wasn't going to invite her, no, _that_ would be admitting weakness. He was going to wait for her to make the first move.

Once, he wished that he would stop being so stubborn, but he soon quelled that thought. After all, that was how he was, and he wasn't going to change that for anyone, not even the one he- liked. Not even the one he _liked_. Yes, _that _was what he was going to think…

He shook his head and resumed his watch from the shadows. She was looking about nervously, drumming her fingers against her leg. Her class was gathered around the Great Hall door, ready to be called in for their written exam. The other students were in small groups talking, or on their own reciting Arithmancy terms or mentally preparing themselves.

She frowned as she saw his figure in the darkness, then raised an eyebrow. He stepped forward slightly, held her eye contact briefly, then nodded. She smiled at him, feeling unexpectedly heartened and confident, then heard the door open behind her. She took a deep steadying breath, then glanced to see Severus' retreating back.

Reassured, she held her head high and took her seat. She knew this. She could do it.

- - -

"How did it go?" Ginny asked, jumping up from her chair as Hermione entered the common room. Harry and Ron did the same, somewhat nervous, until Hermione's smile broke into a grin.

"It went… fine. Good, even."

"Come on, gloat a little. You've just finished your first exam."

"Yeah, Harry's right," Ron said. "We should go and get some… celebratory confections."

Hermione raised her hand. "I'm not going getting drunk _or_ robbing Honeydukes. Besides, your first exam is in a couple of days. Transfiguration Practical, isn't it?" she asked innocently.

Harry and Ron groaned, and the former took on a Trelawney-like demeanour. "I see failure in the Orb."

"Oh, no mate," Rom interrupted. "The size of Uranus is conflicting with the Moon, which tells of half-assed work, culminating in much alcohol. Or at least that's something like what I put on my Divination O.W.Ls."

Hermione snorted and shook her head, and Ginny commented that she really could wait until her next school year. As Harry and Ron continued to joke, Hermione told them she was putting her things upstairs and slipped off up to her dormitory, her mind on Severus.

She never really thought he would have such a calming influence. She'd have to go and see him sometime. Or maybe he didn't want her there. After all, he hadn't invited her down, and she wasn't doing any research anymore, so she didn't really have a reason.

"For God's sake, girl…" she murmured to herself and sank onto her bed. This was Snape; of course he wasn't going to invite her. He probably wanted her to be able to work. Not to mention the fact that she was supposed to- to _love_ him. Wasn't that reason enough to go and see him? People in love had to see each other some time.

She dumped her bag by her bedside table and stood, mind resolved that she would visit him when the week's exams were over.

- - -

Hermione walked down the stairs towards the dungeons and her detention, the letter summoning her in her hand. She had promised herself that she would see Severus soon, but her next visit had transpired sooner than she had thought. Unlike most people treading that path, she didn't have the feeling of imminent doom. Instead, she was wondering what she would do in this detention since all of her research had ended.

She knocked on the door and pushed it open.

"Miss Granger, I thought it was generally considered good manners to wait to be invited inside before entering," Severus drawled without even looking up from his marking. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Hermione gaped at him. She closed the door behind her and strode up to his desk, outraged.

"Severus-"

"This is a detention, Miss Granger, and unless utmost respect is displayed, you will come back every night until you learn. You will address me as Professor Snape, and will do as you are told. Understood?"

Hermione blinked at him. All traces of Severus were gone, replaced by her cruel, sarcastic and widely loathed teacher.

"Yes, Professor," she replied through gritted teeth.

"I want those cauldrons spotless by the end of the evening. And I'm sure you've read in some book or another that cleaning using spells leaves traces of magic that can contaminate the potions next brewed in the cauldron..."

She glared at him, but he merely quirked an eyebrow. Just managing to restrain a torrent of obscenities, she turned on her heel and stormed over to the pile of cauldrons ready for cleaning. She threw her robes over one of the benches and rolled up her sleeves, muttering all the while.

- - -

Sorry for the delay, real life's been fairly insane for a while. Thank you all for your lovely reviews :0)


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need **

**Chapter Twenty Six **

For the next couple of hours she worked aggressively, painfully aware that Severus was watching her. Even though the work was tiring, her mental tirade kept up full force.

_Great, Snape. An absolutely fantastic way of getting me to love you. Put me in detention and make me scrub cauldrons until my fingers are raw. I don't remember why I even thought this could work. I can't believe you're just sat there watching me. If you keep it up I'm going to come and ram this scraper up your-_

"You may stop now."

Hermione stepped back and threw her cleaning instruments down on the bench.

"Any damage to school property will have to be paid for."

"Why?" she cried in response, incredulous. "Why are you behaving like this?"

"You were insolent to me in the corridor in front of Potter. I am a professor at this school and I demand respect." His voice was low with a hard edge of ire.

"Yeah, well, I'm a human being and I demand respect. After everything in the last year and you treat me like _this_?" She turned her back on him and inspected her hands: red and sore from the vigorous scrubbing.

There was a slight pause before he said softly, "Come here."

"Why?" she asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of her voice.

"Do you not want some lotion to soothe your hands?" he asked, smirking.

Hermione glared at him but walked forward to his desk. He stood up and retrieved a small tub of thick, white cream. Indicating for her to sit down, he opened it up, releasing its strong herbal scent into the dungeon, and set it down on the table.

She perched on one of the stools by his desk and held out her hand. He took it in one of his and carefully began to apply the cooling lotion. She closed her eyes as his dextrous hands worked the ointment in, letting his gentle massage relax her.

"Other hand."

She did as she was told and he began the same process again. Hermione sighed.

"If I told you you were a bastard, would you be flattered?"

"Possibly," he replied smoothly.

"I still can't believe you gave me a detention," she said after a while.

"As I said, you were rude to me in front of Potter."

She opened her eyes and grinned tiredly as she asked mock innocently, "Does that mean I can be insolent when Harry's not around?"

"I don't accept that type of behaviour from anyone. Not even you."

"Not even payback for you stalking me before my exam?"

He gave her a warning glance, let her hand fall back to her side, and put the lid back on the lotion.

"Your hands should be feeling like normal in a few minutes," he said, placing the tub back in its rightful place in the cupboard.

"So, no apology for making me clean cauldrons all night?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised.

"No."

"Thought not," she muttered.

"No thanks for making your poor, tired fingers better?" he drawled in response.

She was about to say 'no', but the look on his face clearly indicated doing so would lead to another detention.

"You know, this has to be the oddest, most ridiculous way to fall in love," she said bitterly, inspecting her hands, which were stinging much less than they were previously. "And thanks."

"Perhaps." He studied his own hands for a moment, a slight frown on his features. "If you're referring to the detention then, as I said, I still expect respect from my students. Just because in our private lives our… relationship is as far removed from the one we lead in public as possible, it doesn't mean you can take advantage of it. If you're referring to the rest of the time, then I know no other way. And you're welcome."

He glanced up at her and his gaze softened. She smiled at him wearily, slipped of her seat and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"For the rest of the week and the week after I have exams, but I'll try to visit. That is if it's okay."

"Of course."

She frowned slightly. "And the week after that…"

"Will come, no matter what we do. Just focus on your exams."

She nodded sadly, and Severus placed his hand over hers.

"You'd better go; it's late."

With a squeeze of his hand and a gentle kiss on his cheek, she gathered up her things and left.

Severus sat looking at the door through which she had left for a few moments, before collecting his work and retreating to his quarters.

- - -

Hermione pretended she wasn't a little disappointed that Severus didn't show up as they waited for the Charms Practical. She also tried to convince herself she wasn't looking out for him the day after whilst waiting for their Defence Against the Dark Arts Practical. She was stood with Harry and Ron out on the lawn amidst the other pupils, and she had to restrain herself from turning to look back at the castle. Harry and Ron assumed she was looking for the examiners, and tried to calm her down, at which she merely smiled.

_I don't need him to come and see me,_ she thought. _I've done well in my other exams without him, so why should now be any different_. _Besides, with all the extra reading I've done, I know a fair bit more about the Dark Arts than any seventh year should._ _I'll do fine_.

She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that it took a few moments for her to realise she was being spoken to. One of the examiners, an old man with a monocle and a gravely voice was instructing them.

"…call you up alphabetically to go through the test. We'll take a small group so you don't get a good look at the course – more fun, a surprise is, and more fair too. We'll set you off, a few minutes between you, and watch as you tackle various things you have come across in your seven years of classes. I think that is all. Oh, and good luck."

His partner began to call the first few names off the register, and the rest of the class dispersed over the surrounding area to wait.

"Why do I always have to be near last," Ron mumbled. "Couldn't they go backwards? Waiting makes me nervous."

"It'll give you time for you to go over what you've learnt this year," Hermione replied, pulling out a book.

Harry and Ron snorted.

- - -

It was the end of the week when Severus next saw Hermione. He opened the door, let her in, and she immediately dropped down onto the sofa. He studied her for a while as she sucked in a deep breath, eyes closed and head resting against the back of the sofa, then moved to brew the coffee.

"How has this week been?" The answer seemed painfully obvious to him, but he thought it was the best way get her to talk.

"Long. The exams have gone fine, though. I think."

"If you only did 'fine' then just think how the rest of your year failed."

The water boiled, and he made the drinks in silence. As he handed her the mug, he saw the full force of her troubled look.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, sitting down beside her.

"We… We had our Defence Against the Dark Arts Practical the other day, and I've not been able to get it off my mind. We had to face the different things we'd learnt over the years-"

"I know the curriculum and I'm sure you did well," he replied, confused at her worry.

"No, it's not that. I did well in the practical. It's just… My Boggart..."

When she didn't go on, Severus said flatly, "I assume it's changed since McGonagall berated you for imperfection in your third year." Hermione scowled at him, and he continued, "A Boggart embodies our deepest fears, you know that. Now, more than ever, our fears are darker and less juvenile."

She curled her fingers around the mug, trying to draw comfort from its warmth.

"Hermione, everyone has a Boggart, a thing that they are truly afraid of. Don't let the embodiment of your fear scare you; it's not real, whatever you saw."

"I know," she sighed, and leant against his side tiredly.

He didn't ask what form her Boggart took, and she didn't ask him what his was. It was hard, imagining him fearing something, but baring that part of his soul was too much for her to ask. She idly toyed with a button on his shirt, relaxed in the mutual respect and calm.

"It's weird. Most people know that something big is coming, that there will be a war, yet nobody talks about it. I don't know whether they think talking about it will make it seem more real or that admitting they're scared makes them weak, or even if they think saying there will be a battle will suddenly make it happen…"

"The Gryffindors seem to be taking out their fear on my Slytherins. Quite a number of my students have been attacked in the past couple of weeks," Severus said darkly.

"And you want me to be sympathetic, or something?" Hermione asked bitterly. "After all these years of abuse I've received off 'your Slytherins', it's about time they get a taste of their own medicine."

"So this is where inter-house unity and working together comes into play? Or was that not what you meant when you lectured us all in the hospital wing?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, took a deep breath instead, then replied levelly, "You can't blame me for the behaviour of the rest of my House."

"Just as you can't blame the bullying – or the war – on the whole of Slytherin."

"At least you admit that they bullied me." She then added, before she could stop herself, "And you, too."

Severus looked to the floor, then shook his head. "I'm sorry. I am, Hermione. Don't ask me why I was like that to you – it's just the way I am. I'm just not a nice person…" He smirked slightly, but not cruelly, and asked, trying to lighten the mood, "And am I to believe you never called me behind my back?"

"I know you're not a nice person, not all the time anyway," she replied with a smile, and he returned it with a smile of his own at her honesty. Then she shrugged. "Actually, I defended you."

He seemed taken aback by this, and Hermione laughed gently.

"Don't go having an attack of conscience, now. After all that's happened this year the last thing that's going to happen is me fretting over you insulting my teeth."

He seemed to relax and they descended into quiet once more. Curled up to Severus, feeling his steady breathing under her palm, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, a great deal of the tension that had filled her over the last few days seemed to melt away. She sighed happily, and his hold on her tightened.

Lost in thought, she began the stroke the inside of his forearm, where his rolled up sleeve exposed his pale skin, and down to his wrist. She then cupped his larger hand in hers and drew lazy circles on his palm with her thumb, and was surprised when he let out a deep breath and tipped his head back to rest against the back of the sofa. Then it struck her that he managed to find some comfort in her presence too.

She continued slowly drawing nonsensical patterns, up and down the length of each individual finger, across his palm, over his wrist. All the while she watched his face, marvelling at how calm his expression was.

Then suddenly he had moved. He had sat up straight, swiped Hermione's hand from its random wanderings and brought it to his mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed briefly as he pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. His eyes held an intense fire, his strong grip and the encircled arm pulling her close screaming possession. It took her breath away.

Their cheeks were flushed and their breathing was heavy, and neither seemed about to pull their gaze away from the other any time soon. They stayed like that for a moment, their silence speaking volumes, until Hermione leant forward, slowly and purposely, and pulled him into a kiss. It was an unhurried kiss, deliberate and almost forceful, tinged with need and untold fear for their future.

After, she rested her forehead on his, but didn't remove her clinging hands from the front of his shirt.

"I should go, really." _Before we go any further_. The unsaid words hung heavily in the air.

He nodded once, sharply, in agreement, but obviously didn't want her to go.

She knew she should go, but didn't move. She was more than reluctant to leave the quiet piece, the Gryffindor Common room being noisy and restless, but she knew she had to get back. Severus saw her apologetic look and nodded in understanding.

She rose slowly, a sad smile on her face. He did the same and he walked with her to the door, where she stopped.

"I'll try to come soon, I promise. I'm sorry I've not been to see you very much."

"You don't need to excuse yourself. It's a busy time, even for the normal students."

Hermione laughed. "Normal? I think I knew of that once. It was rather boring…"

Severus smiled in response; not a broad grin, just a flicker of his lips, but it meant just as much to Hermione. She cupped his cheek, then leant in to kiss him. He reciprocated, and after neither pulled away. The contact was their lifeline, or at least that's what it felt like. Gathering strength from the other's touch, neither wanted to move, until Hermione eventually stepped back.

She didn't say anything, and she didn't have to. With a quick glance and brief eye contact, she exited his rooms and retreated into the darkness.

- - -

When Severus next opened the door to let her in, he expected her to be tired, but with her usual expression of affection and kindness, her eyes sparkling with intelligence. When he did, however, Hermione was stood, arms wrapped around herself, teeth worrying at her lips, and her expression full of fear and anxiety.

He closed the door behind her and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I saw the moon on the way down. It's almost full. Almost ready."

He couldn't pretend that he hadn't thought the same, and didn't know of any comforting words to say. What would come, would come, after all.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, shrouding her with his scent and heat, silently reassuring her that it would be all right in the end. After a few minutes, she whispered into his chest, "I'm scared."

He didn't say anything for a while, until he eventually replied softly, "We all are."

She curled her fingers into his shirt, then felt herself being moved, and allowed Severus to escort her to the sofa. She curled up against him, her head resting against his chest where his heart beat resounded, a soothing rhythm, a constant, proclaiming life.

"This is it, isn't it? It's inevitable."

Severus sighed heavily, making a strand of Hermione's hair blow across her face. He pulled it back, then continued to stroke her hair, committing every last touch and sensation to memory.

"Yes."

She closed her eyes, but the memory of her Boggart flashed into view. Harry, Ron, Ginny, her mum and dad, Minerva and Albus, all spread-eagled on the floor, blood trickling from their wounds and their eyes staring lifelessly up at her. But it was Severus' dead gaze that haunted her dreams.

- - -

Hee, thank you for reading and for all your reviews! There's plenty of excitement for you in the next chapter… ;0D


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty Seven **

Screams erupted as the first shudder struck the castle. Nerves were wrecked and tempers were at their peak, but as the first sign of attack ran through the school from its highest towers to its very foundations, the occupants were terrified beyond what they thought was possible.

"Get back from the window," Hermione ordered coolly. "If they break, then the glass will cut you."

Parvati and Lavender moved away quickly, still clinging to each other. They were beyond shrieking, and instead stood silently, eyes wide and mouths trembling.

"Get dressed, quickly now, and meet down in the Common Room. Hurry!"

The rest of the girls in the dormitory began to dress, but Hermione, having spent the night lying on her bed fully clothed and wand in hand, swept from the room. Stood on the stairs, she grabbed the first girl she saw.

"Hermione, I was coming to get you."

"It's all right, Ginny, I don't think anyone slept through that. Go-"

Another quiver that nearly knocked the two girls off their feet shook the castle, and more screams followed.

"Oh, God… Ginny, go and get everyone dressed and down in the Common Room."

"O- Okay," Ginny said, curiously looking at Hermione's fully clothed, wide awake appearance, but turned and ran up the stairs.

Hermionewent the other way, ordering others similarly. When she emerged at the bottom, she found a number of Gryffindors running around in their pyjamas, too terrified to think.

"Stop! Stop! Listen to me! Clam down!" Hermione yelled until the chaos had died down. She told one of the semi-dressed boys – his robes were pulled on haphazardly over his night clothes, which appeared to be what most had done – to do the same as Ginny with the boy's tower. "Get dressed, all of you, and wands at the ready."

"Wow, Hermione."

She turned around to find Harry and Ron, dressed and wands out, looking ready for a battle. Harry grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off into the corner. He glanced around, then, his voice lowered, began to talk to her and Ron.

"Look, you lot have to keep the kids safe. I-" He swallowed and took a deep breath. "I have to go. Dumbledore said they'll try to get them into the Great Hall where they can't run."

"Don't be daft, Harry, you're not leaving us," Ron said, as much conviction in his voice as he could manage.

"I am not staying here," Hermione said, and this time there was no doubt about it.

"If these are going, then so am I," Ginny said, joining the trio.

"You- you can't," Harry spluttered. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"Stop being the hero, Harry," Hermione said gently, although her voice was still firm, "you've enough of that to do in a minute." Before he could respond, she turned to face the congregation of Gryffindors now grouped in the Common Room. "Listen to me; we do not have much time."

Yet another shake interrupted her speech. Books fell to the floor and coals tumbled from the hearth. A sixth year pulled out his wand quickly and cooled them quickly, and received an approving smile off Hermione in return.

"A few of us must go soon." She glanced at Harry. The rest of the room was deadly silent, now. "But before we do, I want you to do what all the other Houses have been ordered to do." Remembering what she had told the other prefects, she said, "Put out the fires in case they try to Floo, and also in case any more coals fall out; we don't need the common room on fire. Keep away from the windows in case the glass shatters. Don't argue with me, you in the lower years, and let the older ones surround you and protect you. Once we have gone, don't let the portrait open to anyone."

"What if they get through?" a small girl squeaked. "Their magic is powerful."

"The Fat Lady will deny admittance, and the school's magic will have put the place practically in lockdown. If they should manage to get through, but they won't, protect yourselves the best you can, and help will soon be on its way. We are Gryffindors, and we are brave. Remember that you were all put in this House for a reason."

There was a pause when she stopped talking, but soon the room was filled with people hurrying around. Harry grabbed Hermione and dragged her to the side again, this time his expressions filled with shock and inquisition as well as fear.

"Hermione-"

"We've wasted enough time, we need to get going."

"But-"

"Harry, I'll explain everything later. Right now we need to go."

He gaped at her, then shook his head. He looked at her, then Ron and finally Ginny in turn, then took a deep breath.

"You don't need to say anything, mate," Ron said, his voice unusually sombre. "Just go and do that thing that you do."

Harry nodded once, then turned to walk to the exit. The Gryffindors hushed, and all eyes were on Harry as he stood, hand ready to push the portrait open.

"Gin, you promised you'd stay here," Harry said quietly. Anger and frustration flashed in her eyes, but she sighed in resignation. Hermione guessed that they had spent the night together, Harry convincing her to stay safe.

"Fine." She sighed and smiled at him. "I'll keep this lot safe. Now go!"

Taking a deep breath and raising his wand, Harry pushed open the portrait. He tilted his head to tell them to follow him, and Hermione stepped down after him. A few steps into the dark, then-

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Harry and Hermione were disarmed and grabbed roughly from behind before they even realised what was happening. Ron, too, was captured as he was stepping down. The portrait hole stood open.

"Get back, Ginny!" Harry yelled before a callused hand was placed over his mouth.

Her hesitation was costly, and as she was about to do as she was told, she was pulled through the portrait hole. With the entrance to the whole of the tower and all those children gaping open, a couple of the remaining Death Eaters darted forward, sending curses flying in. Hermione saw Seamus and Neville fall before the portrait was pulled closed.

"Annoying brats," one of the masked Death Eaters muttered. Her voice was faintly familiar. "I can't see why we have to leave the others here."

"Calm down, Bella. You'll have you fun soon enough." This time the speaker's voice was instantly recognisable. Hermione realised with utmost dread that it was Lucius Malfoy with his hands clutching her arms tightly behind her back.

"He doesn't need them. Why waste time? The other houses will be less prepared."

Hermione started. Severus.

"Yes, Mudblood. Say hello to your favourite professor," Lucius drawled, and handed over Hermione and the others' wands to Severus.

"Be quite, Lucius," Severus growled, "and let's take these to our Master."

The four friends – Harry and Ron in the grips of two boulder-sized men, Ginny in the grasp of Bellatrix Lestrange and Hermione held by Lucius Malfoy – were soon being roughly dragged through the halls of Hogwarts in the wake of Severus. These once safe corridors were now infiltrated with the enemy, and the place felt as if its life and security had been drained away.

Severus led them down towards the main staircase, looking determinedly ahead, and Hermione knew she was a fool to think that he would give her a reassuring look or a sign of recognition.

As they came to the end of the corridor, Hermione glanced out of the window, and Lucius had to push fiercely to make her move again. Death Eaters were placed at small intervals at the perimeter, trying to break through the wards. As a particularly strong and damaging blow hit, the magical barrier encircling the castle gave a great shudder, and ripples of shimmering colour oscillated through the great arc.

She wondered how much energy it had taken these few Death Eaters to divert the wards enough to let themselves in. She hoped they would be weakened enough for their state to be an advantage to the Order. She prayed that the Founders could keep up the wards, could keep changing them and reinventing them so that the majority of the Death Eaters who were still trying to break through could not come close.

Down below, a few Death Eaters were gathered, and with them they held a group of younger students captive. A wave of nausea chilled her when she remembered what their fate would be.

Her gaze was ripped from the scene as she was guided down the main stairs, yet she couldn't get the picture from her mind. Soon, the children, mere children, would be hanging from an invisible crucifix, their blood slowly draining away.

She bit her lip and stared blankly ahead. She was numbly aware that she was being taken down the stairs, but her fear was taking over.

The only thing powerful enough to pull her out of her stupor was the sight she saw on entering the Great Hall. Nothing could have prepared her for it. The House tables were tossed aside, lying the wrong way up at the edges of the hall, but they were mainly blocked from view by the circle of Death Eaters. At their feet, a few of the professors and students were heaped, unconscious or dead.

Yet the thing that held Hermione's attention was the cloaked figure stood on his own in the middle of the vacated hall, seemingly calm amidst all the terror. She could only see his back, yet she knew who he would be.

"You have done well," he said, then turned around to face them.

Harry's screams echoed around the massive hall as his scar erupted with pain. Voldemort, a lipless smile playing on his chalk white face, watched on, his red eyes glinting with amusement.

"Potter."

The high pitched voice made Hermione's blood run cold.

"Come here."

Harry was thrown forward by his captor and fell to his knees at Voldemort's feet.

"Just how it should be – you at my feet begging for mercy."

"Go to hell," Harry spat.

"I'm already there. This place just _reeks_ of good and hope. Really Dumbledore, I don't know how you put up with it."

His gaze had shifted to behind Hermione, and she couldn't help but let out a small cry when she saw Albus and Minerva being brought in by numerous robed cronies.

"Good morning, Tom."

"Yes. Yes it is. Ah, Minerva…"

She turned away from him as best as she could whilst being held, mouth pressed into a thin line, and ignored Voldemort's laugh. Hermione caught her eye, and Minerva held it, her expression certainly not defeated.

"And what have we here?" He walked past Harry, who was still on the floor, crippled by pain, and stood in front of Ginny. "Hello again, my dear." He used a long skeletal finger to tilt her head up to see her face.

"Get off me," she said quietly, and spat in his face. She wasn't expecting the hard cuff in return, and Hermione was sure that if she wasn't being held she would have been knocked to the floor.

"Insolent brat."

"Keep your hands off her!"

Before most people had registered Ron's shout, Voldemort had his bony fingers in a painful grip around the redhead's neck.

"You, I don't have a need for, other than a little entertainment. If you wish to live a few more minutes of your pitiful life, I suggest you be quiet. Otherwise, I'll kill you now." Ron stood silently, glaring at the monster before him. "Good boy. And you…"

Hermione wouldn't look away, even as he trailed a finger down her cheek.

"You could be useful. I've heard all about your power and intelligence… Perform the charm on them."

Hermione knew what would come next; she had seen it. A beam of blue light would hit her then turn white, spectacularly surrounding around her. Then, satisfied of her innocence, the Death Eaters would take her away to drain her of her blood. Except-

"No! No!" The scream was from Draco Malfoy, stood on the outskirts out of view. "No! That Mudblood whore, that bitch!" He pushed through the crowd, pointing at Hermione who was enshrouded in a fantastic, glorious crimson light. "That-"

He was hit by the Cruciatus. After a moment, Lucius lowered his wand and said to his son, who was on his knees, "Never speak out of turn again."

"Thank you, Lucius, but discipline your child in your own time. However, that was not the result I was expecting, either. Never mind, you will have your use." He turned around. "Severus-"

"Severus? Severus, my child, no!"

The Dark Lord smirked at the Headmaster's shout, and Hermione was ever thankful of his state of mind, that he was too enthralled with his position to realise Dumbledore's acting.

Voldemort continued, "Severus, hand Potter his wand."

Pulling out a collection of wands, he selected Harry's and moved to hand it to him. His dark eyes glittered behind the mask as he silently willed the boy to have strength.

Slowly, with jerky movements, Harry stood up, palm pressed against his burning scar, and snatched his wand.

"Come, let's do this properly, once and for all. How about a wizard's duel? Not that it will matter in the end, but we may as well put on a good show for your friends before I kill them too."

"Leave them alone!" Harry yelled, breathless. "Leave them out of this. This is not their fight."

"_Crucio_."

It wasn't aimed at Harry, but at Ron.

"Now, are you going to play nicely, or must I continue?"

"Leave him alone… Leave them all alone…"

He flicked his wand and Ron, ashen faced, slumped against the Death Eater. Harry could vaguely hear shouts of concern from Hermione, Ginny and others, but his concentration was now focused entirely on Voldemort.

"Bow."

Harry stepped forward and the circle of Death Eaters closed in. Voldemort made a great sweeping bow, and looked at Harry expectantly. "Do you need a reminder of your manners?"

Unlike at the end of his fourth year, he nodded his head and bowed quickly. Dumbledore's warnings of _don't let him use Imperio – it will only weaken you further_ and _try not to waste too much time, as the pain in your scar will only worsen _echoed in his mind as his grip tightened on his wand.

"My, my, it seems I'm more of a competent teacher than any of these fools-"

"_Crucio_!"

He wanted crippling pain, torturous agony, yet Harry's curse merely swayed his enemy. Voldemort laughed and the sound reverberated tauntingly.

"That was unexpected."

"What, you thought I would use _Stupefy_?"

"Actually, yes."

"_Crucio_!"

A similar result.

"How about a lesson, boy? _Crucio._"

Everything Harry wanted Voldemort to feel, he felt, only a hundred times worse. His scar made his head feel as if it would explode, and every nerve was on fire. Spots of darkness erupted before his eyes and his stomach roiled painfully.

"Get up, boy. I thought you were a saviour? The Boy-Who-Lived?"

Harry attempted to stand, but his legs gave way and he fell back to the floor. Voldemort smirked.

"Perhaps I should make a great speech to mark the occasion, to celebrate the day I truly do destroy Harry Potter. Perhaps I should say you've been living on borrowed time bought by your mother's sacrifice. Instead, considering your past last-minute successes, I'll just kill you and move on to more pressing matters."

He raised his wand.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Severus dart forward.

"_Avada_-"

She hadn't seen what had been happening in her vision from the Oracle, and she hadn't seen what was happening now, but she didn't need to foresee the future to know what he was doing. Impulse drove her forward as she pulled out of Lucius' slackened grip.

"-_Kedavra_!"

She ran forward, trying to stop Severus. He couldn't die. If anyone was going to block the curse, it would be her.

A green flash.

They made contact, clawing at each other, trying to push the other out of the way. Hermione's momentum knocked him off course, yet he grabbed hold of her and pulled her to his chest as he continued round and tried to turn his back on the curse.

The Unforgivable hit.

Neither Hermione or Severus saw the curse rebound, nor did they have any idea of the consequence as Voldemort was sent staggering backwards. When Harry cried the Killing Curse that would end the Dark Lord's reign of terror, Severus was on the floor in an unmoving heap, and by the time the Order sprang into action to capture the Death Eaters, Hermione had fallen next to him.

- - -

Thank you all again for reading and for your reviews :0)


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary: _"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.**  
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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty Eight **

The Unforgivable hit, and the two pawns of fate fell. And finally, finally, the Oracle's words made sense.

"_And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need."_

The curse, defeated by simultaneously the most simple yet complex base feelings of its targets, rebounded on to its caster. Bright green light engulfed Voldemort and sent him reeling. The Dark Lord's weakness was Harry's strength, and all the pain that had consumed his body seemed to evaporate. Taking what he knew was his one and only opportunity, he stood, outstretched his wand, and cast a Killing Curse of his very own.

Before this amazingly intense green blast had even subsided, the rest of the Light had sprung into action. Amidst screams and yells and rainbow bursts of curses, the Death Eaters in the castle were rounded up, though those remaining outside the barrier seemed to realise their master had been defeated and fled.

And whilst the last moments of battle raged on, Hermione and Severus remained in their position on the ground, still entwined together in a sick rendition of a sweet embrace.

- - -

"I'm fine, Poppy. See, there's not even a scar left."

"Sit down, Minerva," the nurse ordered.

Minerva sighed, and the bed covers rustled gently as she sat back down.

"This'll just take a few minutes."

Hermione's face contorted into a frown as she desperately tried to cling onto the last shreds of sleep that were rapidly falling away. She could hear people talking, but her head felt fuzzy, and she couldn't make out what they were saying, even if she had wanted to.

She flexed her fingers experimentally, then her toes, and found everything to be working. Then slowly, so she didn't daze herself with the light, she blinked her eyes open. She seemed to be in the hospital wing, in a small ward with only a few beds.

She inhaled sharply, sending pain through her chest, as she remembered just why she was in the hospital wing. The battle, the Unforgivable, Harry, Severus…

She pushed back the covers then rolled out of bed and stumbled sideways, ignoring the nausea and pain and the fact she had no idea exactly where he was.

"Poppy!" she faintly heard Minerva cry, but ignored it as she made her way to the curtains separating the wards.

Minerva slipped off the bed where she was sat, and hurried over to her student. "Hermione," she whispered soothingly. "It's okay; we won."

Hermione span around and looked up at Minerva. "Where is he?" Her voice was hoarse from lack of use, yet the desperation was clear. "Where is he?"

The curtain opened and Remus stepped through.

"Keep quiet, he's just fallen asleep- Oh, Hermione!"

Hermione blinked at him once, then stepped forward. "He's in there? Is he okay?"

"Yes, but better to let him rest."

"Really? He's okay?"

Remus chuckled gently and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry's just fine."

Her voice caught in her throat and the relief that had been allowed to form in the pit of her stomach dissipated instantly. Of course she was glad of the news, but Harry wasn't her main concern. No doubt he'd had it rough in the battle – that was an understatement – but the last thing she remembered was Severus being hit by the Killing Curse, and whilst her best friend was a survivor, Severus obviously thought his life wasn't worth saving. She shook her head wildly. "No… Severus."

Remus, stunned, glanced over Hermione's shoulder at Minerva and raised an eyebrow.

"Let her pass."

"But-"

Minerva shook her head. "Let her in."

Hermione's eyes widened as she went through into the next ward. Remus and Minerva were whispering frantically, but she paid them no attention. All she could think about was Severus, lay silent and still on the bed in front of her.

Harry was in another bed at the other end, and she knew he was okay. But Severus… Fighting back tears, she walked up towards him, and clasped his hand in hers.

"You've been unconscious for quite a while, now. The students went home last week." Minerva, who was hovering at the ward entrance, looked uncertain and asked, "May I come in?"

Hermione nodded briefly and asked, "What's wrong with him?"

Minerva took a couple of steps into the room before replying, "You both jumped in front of Harry to block the Killing Curse. It rebounded off you both, knocking Voldemort back, weakening him, and gave Harry enough time to perform to Curse himself."

"Oh. But what's wrong with him?"

"Hermione, you've both lived through being hit with the Killing Curse," Minerva said softly. "It's… We have no idea what to do. It's not exactly common… I'm sorry."

"But- But Harry- just a baby… He was fine."

"Things weren't exactly normal for Harry; they never have been. He was marked as Voldemort's equal; you two, however…" She inhaled deeply, searching for the right words. "I- I guess your mutual love saved each other, just as Lily's love saved Harry. You saved much more than yourselves, that morning, though… If you two hadn't…"

"That's why the Oracle said we have to love each other," Hermione said quietly.

"You should go back to bed and let Poppy examine you. We fixed what we could, but just to be safe we'll take another look."

"No. No, I want to be here when he wakes up."

Hermione couldn't see Minerva's face, but she knew her expression would be of sadness and futility. She, however, knew he would wake up, believed that he would. He had to wake up. Had to…

Minerva nodded and silently left. Hermione carefully pulled back the covers and climbed in beside him. She brushed her eyes, determined not to cry, and lay beside him and eventually fell back into an uneasy sleep.

- - -

Something warm was pressed against him, and it was moving slightly. His mind searched through a list of what it could possibly be, some more than ridiculous in his confused state. Eventually, he realised he would just have to look.

Opening his eyes slowly, he gathered he was in the hospital wing, and by turning his head he realised that the 'something' was Hermione. His heart skipped a beat and relief flooded his veins as he remembered what had happened.

She emitted a small groan and opened her eyes. She looked up and gasped sharply when she realised Severus was awake.

"Thank God, Severus, I thought you were dead."

"Stupid," was his harsh reply, and the gravely quality of his voice borne of disuse only made his words more menacing. He leant up to face her properly despite his body's protestations. "Stupid, stupid girl. What did you think you were doing?"

Hermione's face contorted in confusion and distress. "Severus-"

"It wasn't your place to play the hero. You could have died!"

"But I didn't-"

"Obviously, but-"

"No! No** '**buts'. I-" Her voice shook as she continued, "I thought you were going to die. That impulse, whatever it was that made me run to you, it saved you. It saved you, me and the rest of us…" She repeated what Minerva had said happened when they lost consciousness. "That was what the Oracle was talking about."

"Ah. So it was your place to play the hero."His voice was quiet and the bite was mainly gone, now, and he was clearly in shock. Shock at the brief details he'd heard of what had happened, but mostly at still being alive.

She looked away. "I thought you _were _dead. I thought that I'd never…"

"Never what?"

Hermione swallowed. The enormity of what had transpired suddenly hit her, and the blow was doubled when she realised what she was about to say. She forced herself to look up and meet his gaze.

"I thought that I'd never be able to tell you that I love you…"

Any anger left in his eyes quickly dissipated, only to be replaced with disgust and self-loathing. He shook his head, his brows knitting together in a frown.

He glanced up at her. "I- I'm sorry, Hermione, and I'm thankful you are well."

She smiled tenderly, then reached out to brush her fingers over the white bandages around his chest. She sighed gently, and said quietly, "We're going to have so many questions to answer. I don't think we can really answer them all."

"No. But we'll worry about that when we need to."

He captured her hand in his, and pressed a kiss against her forehead. Tilting her head up to meet his lips with hers, she kissed him softly, then whispered, "I love you, Severus."

His only response was to trail a finger down her side, then wrap an arm around her possessively to pull her closer. Hermione closed her eyes, partly to rest, partly to hide her sadness, and let out a deep sigh. It was only when she was on the verge of sleep that she heard the faint whisper of, "I love you, too."

- - -

"I can't do this."

"You've been through worse."

Hermione snorted.

"I haven't seen any of them since the attack." She pulled on her robe and sighed heavily. "I don't think they're going to like what we're going to tell them."

"Of course they wont, but that's not our fault. Besides, I think I may enjoy watching Potter's head implode as he tries to understand just what happened."

Hermione smiled at his rather odd attempt at comfort, and turned to face him and said reluctantly, "I guess we'd better go."

"Floo?"

"Walk. It takes longer."

Severus gave a resigned look as he waited for her by the door, then walked with her out of the hospital wing. They made their way to Dumbledore's office in silence, only stopping briefly when they crossed paths with where Hermione was taken on the day of the battle. Severus simply placed his hand at the base of her back, warm and reassuring, and they continued on their way.

The office, apart from Fawkes dozing in the corner, was empty, and Hermione went to stand by the window. She gazed out over the lawns and sighed heavily.

"Do they know the death toll, yet?"

"No. From what I've been told," he replied, annoyance clear in his voice, "some people are still missing from the other attacks."

Hermione closed her eyes in a silent prayer, hoping that those still missing would return home safely. The assault on the school had been the worst, but all around the country, the world, even, there had been other attacks.

She felt Severus' chest against her back and his arms encircled her. She leant against him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"What are we going to tell them?"

"The truth. Or at least the parts of it they can know."

Hermione nodded at his words, and turned in his embrace to face him. "It'll do them more damage to know the whole truth, than to never know," she agreed darkly.

The fire flared green and Minerva appeared in the office. Hermione and Severus sprang apart out of habit, but she ignored them and turned back to the fire, waiting. Within a couple of seconds, Helen and John Granger were stood in front of her.

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione darted forward, and the small family embraced.

"Are you okay? Are you sure?"

"Yes, mum," Hermione reiterated, nodding emphatically, and stepped back. She glanced back at Severus, who stepped forward, and greeted her parents.

Harry and Ron chose the moment when Helen was pulling an embarrassed Severus into a hug to burst into the office. Upon seeing the gathered crowd, they froze, their gazes flowing from one person to the next.

"Oh, hello Harry, Ron," Helen said after a pause.

"Hi," they replied in unison.

More voices could be heard as they ascended the stairs, and Albus soon entered, followed by Amanda and Jackson, breaking the awkward silence. When the two Americans saw Hermione and Severus, though, they froze, looking at them in amazement.

Hermione looked up at Severus, confused, but it was Dumbledore that clarified their reactions.

"I have briefly told them of what happened, and it is hard to comprehend. To survive the Killing Curse… It's unheard of unless the person in question is Harry Potter." The Headmaster nodded at Harry.

"Yes, I suspect you'll be angry that your thunder was stolen. You'll have to get a new gimmick now to impress the masses," Severus said smoothly.

"Now, now, Severus," Albus said, but the rest of his reproving statement was cut short by Minerva's hand on his arm. She shook her head at him lightly, but a smile was on her lips, and moved forward to Hermione.

Dumbledore sparked conversation by introducing Harry and the others to Jackson and Amanda, yet he and Ron were mainly focused on Hermion. Her overt show of affection as she was embraced by Minerva and their easy flowing conversation only raised more questions.

"Now, perhaps we should sit and discuss the matter which is, no doubt, what we all want to see to." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at Hermione and Minerva, who were still talking, his expression amused.

"Sorry, Albus," Hermione grinned, and finally broke away from the older witch.

Albus had arranged a circle of comfy seats for them to occupy, and a tray of tea and biscuits (and cake and scones) was set on the low coffee table.

Hermione sat next to Harry with Severus on her other side. The others weren't brave enough to sit next to him, so it was John that took the seat.

"Don't worry," Hermione said, leaning over to whisper in Severus' ear. "I'm fairly sure he's not going to castrate you slowly and painfully with his dental equipment."

Severus remembered her comment from what seemed a long time ago and gave her a sidelong glance.

"He doesn't know what we've been up to for the past year, yet."

She was probably the only one that could see the dark humour flicker in his eyes, and grinned.

"Hmm, I think we'll leave those details out." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Harry and Ron, clearly trying to restrain themselves, knuckles white as they gripped the arms of their chairs. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He merely smirked at her and leant back, ignoring the varied expression of the group, then nodded at Dumbledore, who it appeared had been waiting for them to finish.

"A lot of things have happened in the past years, and whilst the Order has presided over most of them, certain events and goings on have been out of its and my control." Dumbledore's gaze settled on Hermione. "We were hoping that you could shed some light for us. I don't expect you to reveal all, but we all have our questions."

Hermione's tongue flickered out to lick her lips, and she shot a glance at Severus. His eyes met hers and for a moment she did nothing, until, reassured, she turned back to Albus.

"This may take a while," she said, thinking it was a major understatement, "but I think it may be best if I start at the beginning…"

It was late that night when she finally finished, voice hoarse and face pale. Sometime when telling of her vision, Severus' fingers had become entangled in hers, and she was thankful for the sign of support.

The other occupants of the room were gazing back at her with identical expressions of horror, and she swallowed and shrugged uncomfortably.

"And… that's basically what happened."

Albus caught her eye, and she could tell that he knew she had left out certain details, and was thankful he didn't press further.

"So… So, you had to love him, just because you were told to?" John said eventually, and his daughter nodded. "I don't know much about this culture, but this is outrageous!"

"I agree that we should have a choice," the Headmaster began tiredly, "but sometimes we are given a destiny that we cannot stray from." He gestured to Harry, Hermione and Severus. "However, if they had not fulfilled theirs…"

"The Oracle said that if I didn't love him, then we would all die. Well, not those exact words, but that's what she meant. A chain reaction…" Hermione sighed heavily. "The Killing Curse wouldn't rebound, the Dark Lord wouldn't be weakened, Harry wouldn't have a chance to kill him, he would win…"

"Chaos theory? That's one thing out of all of this I understand," Helen said. She looked at her daughter and shook her head sadly. Sighing, she added, "Well, you did tell me that this was complicated."

- - -

Thank you so much for reading and for all your reviews!


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary:_"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Twenty Nine **

"I… I don't know what to say," Harry said. His eyes showed a mixture of anger and confusion, but mainly shock. "I really don't."

"You don't need to say anything," Hermione replied. "I'm sorry I lied to you both. I wish I could have told you."

"It's okay," Ron said slowly, as if he was surprised his words were true. "I mean, you did save the world and everything. I just can't believe it, though. Fate must have a sick sense of humour to stick you with _him_."

Hermione laughed at his outrage, and smiled at them both. Even if they both did look rather apprehensive after the revelation of the truth, they at least hadn't resorted to shouting and hexes.

"Thanks, and I really mean that." She glanced over her shoulder to see her parents stood talking to the other adults. "I'm going to go see my parents off."

"And we're going to see Snape," Ron said, a strangely determined expression on his features. Harry looked less than enthusiastic at having to talk to Snape, but seemed resigned that he had no choice.

"Behave," Hermione warned them, and went over to where her parents were talking to Severus. Or at least where her father was warning Severus on how to stay in his good books.

"I assure you that I will not do anything to harm her," he replied through gritted teeth, and Hermione glared at her father.

"I think deflecting the Killing Curse is proof enough of his intentions," she said, coming to stand by him.

"Well, that means nothing to me," John replied. "As long as my girl's happy."

"John, relax," Helen interrupted, rolling her eyes in a manner that made her look very much like her daughter.

Hermione leant closer to Severus and said to him, "I think Harry and Ron want a word with you. Please don't kill them, okay?"

"Well, I guess I do have to keep you happy," he replied in a long-suffering tone. He glanced over at the pair, distaste clear on his features, but walked over to them after a slight prod from Hermione.

She turned back to her parents, and Helen said, "We're going to go in a few minutes, back to our house at last. America was nice and everything, and the weather was better, but there's nothing quite like home."

"I'll come visit soon," Hermione promised.

"Okay, love. Look, you just take a rest now, okay? You've… You've been through a war. I just…" At a loss for words, her mother drew her into a long hug. "I don't know what we'd have done if we had lost you. Thank God you're okay."

"Mum, I'm fine. Severus and Harry, Ron, Ginny and you two are all okay, and that's what matters to me. Or at least the lads have survived up until now," she added with a small laugh.

Over on the other side of the room, Severus was enduring the two teenagers' threats.

"You better treat her right, or else you'll have us to answer to. I mean, fair enough you blocked the killing curse, but that doesn't mean you can start taking liberties," Ron thundered.

"Yeah, if she gets hurt, then your life won't be worth living," Harry said with true venom.

Harry and Ron glared menacingly up at the older wizard.

"You really think you are special, don't you," was his reply in that cold voice used in his potions lessons. "You couldn't even harm me in a duel if I was wandless and had my hands tied behind my back, so I suggest you ease off the threats. Or, one day, my hand might just _slip,_ and then what? Well, some potions are completely untraceable…"

They bristled and Severus smirked at them.

"You are mere children and see me as a cold, heartless bastard and I couldn't care less. For what it's worth, there is a better chance of you getting a decent grade in your Potions N.E.W.Ts than of me hurting Hermione. If you do not like the fact that we are… together, then I suggest you learn to deal with it."

Severus gave them a last condescending glance and swept away.

"Yeah, we sure told him," muttered Harry under his breath. He shuddered as he saw the Potions master snake an arm around Hermione, and had to turn away as she saw her look of affection.

"She loves him," Ron said blankly.

It was a simple statement, if not an obvious one, but Harry nodded in reply.

"I guess we're going to have to get used to it. Bastard."

Oblivious to them, Hermione and Severus said goodbye and watched as Helen and John were taken back home by portkey.

"That'll be a journey they never forget," Hermione said, then yawned widely. "It's been a long day."

"You're telling me. At lease Dumbledore will throw Potter and Weasley out soon, anyway."

"That desperate to get away from them?" she asked in mock surprise.

"Yes. I'm afraid that their stupidity may be contagious."

Hermione shook her head, knowing that she would never stop him from calling her friends. She moved over to them, and she, Harry and Ron pulled each other into a group hug.

"We're going to go now," Harry said after a while.

"We'll see you soon. Oh, yeah – you're coming out next Saturday night with us all."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Ron continued. "A load of us are meeting up in Hogsmeade."

"And getting rather drunk," she added with a smirk. "Fine then. Goodnight."

"Night."

"G'night," Harry said. "Look… Can- Can I tell Ginny?"

Hermione blinked. She wasn't expecting that.

"I guess so," she replied slowly.

"Okay. Night," he repeated, and followed Ron to the door. Hermione walked with them, and stopped near Severus, and continued to stare at the door after they had gone.

"I think that went okay. Nothing too disastrous."

"Hmmm," Hermione replied tiredly, and stifled a yawn. "Let's go to bed."

An odd expression crossed his face, even though he tried to suppress it, at the suggestion of them staying together despite the necessity having passed. It soon disappeared, though, as his mind reminded him the she really, truly did actually love him.

"Come on," he said softly, his hand coming to rest at her lower back, and they slowly exited the Headmaster's office.

"I don't know how she did it," Minerva said, turning to Albus. "I didn't realise how much she had to live with."

Albus pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"But she _did_managed, and for that I am thankful."

- - -

Hermione looked up as Severus stepped out of the hearth. She moved the newspaper from next to her and he sat down. Immediately, she shifted to lean against him, and he brought his arm around her.

"How did it go?"

"As good as can be expected. He debriefed me on everything." Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lucius… He's in Azkaban indefinitely, and will probably be receiving the Kiss. Draco will be imprisoned, although his sentence won't be for as long as those some of the others will be receiving." He shook his head. "Most of the other Death Eaters were captured, rather than killed, and hearings are still going on. There was a series of attacks, despite the Dark Lord's death, but they were stopped once the Ministry began to help."

"What has been the official report of what happened?"

"Basically the truth, except that the details of what happened inside the castle are a bit vague."

"So they don't know that we… well, survived the Killing Curse?"

Severus snorted. "They wouldn't believe us if we told them."

"Good. I mean, Amanda and Jackson's weird looks were bad enough. I don't think I could put up with it all the time."

"I don't think Potter could put up with it," Severus replied dryly.

"And… what about the victims?"

Severus shot her a questioning look and frowned, then replied softly, "There was a mass funeral for most of them whilst we were unconscious. Some families took the bodies home, but most had them buried on the grounds."

"Can- Can we go and see them?"

He studied her for a long moment as if trying to decide what would be best for her, but he couldn't deny her the chance to say goodbye to all those whom she had lost, no matter how painful it would be.

"If that is what you wish to do."

Half an hour later, they were walking up one of the larger hills on the grounds. The sun beat down on them, and the breeze was light, carrying the scent of blooming flowers. Hermione felt that it should be raining.

As they reached the crest, Hermione gasped as she saw the rows of graves, their headstones proclaiming sentiments about the person that lay beneath the ground.

Seamus Finnigan, Hannah Abbot, Anthony Goldstein, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Marietta Edgecombe,

Nymphadora Tonks, Rubeus Hagrid, Mundungus Fletcher, Hestia Jones, Kingsley Shacklebolt…

Her mental list never seemed to end as she recognised the names of those she knew, and after a while she gave up, each person's name just blurring into the rest. As she walked further along each row, tears began to fall and a lump formed in her throat.

Severus watched on, uncertain how to comfort her and unwilling to interfere. It took a while, but she finally came to the end of the graves, and she walked back slowly, enclosed within a horrified daze.

She came to stand in front of him and looked up as a tear trickled down her cheek. She tried to speak but no words came out, and instead a strangled sob escaped her.

Severus drew her close and she clung to him as she mourned for those she had lost. Inside she was numb with incomprehension. How they could all die so easily? Hadn't her visions and her work helped at all?

As if he sensed her thoughts, Severus said gently, "If you had not worked so tirelessly to help us, then even more graves would be filled. We saved so many people, Hermione. You saved them."

"But people still died," she choked, her voice muffled against his chest. "People have still lost family and friends and those they love!"

"And some people still have those they love because of what you did. You cannot blame yourself. The Dark Lord and his followers are the only ones to blame."

It was some time later when Hermione lifted her head to look at him. She couldn't remember falling to the floor, but there she was, on her knees, huddled up against him.

"Are you ready to move?" he asked softly.

"Just a few more minutes."

He tightened his hold on her in response, determined to make her realise she wasn't alone. He knew what it was like to lose people, and grieving alone was not something he was going to let her experience.

Nauseous with grief and still distressed, Hermione allowed Severus to help her up and guide her back to the castle. She knew what he had said was true, that she wasn't to blame, but that didn't make her not feel like it was.

If Severus had died – God, she couldn't even think of it. If he had died without her telling him she loved him, she probably would have died too.

She held on to him helplessly, trapped inside her mind. She didn't even realise when she entered the castle or when they descended the dungeon stairs, or even when they entered their rooms.

Severus observed her, just as helpless, and pulled her closer to him as she wept into the night.

- - -

"I don't want to go."

"Why not?"

"I just… don't want to."

"Hermione-"

"You can't make me."

"No?" Severus sighed. "It would do you good to see all your friends and classmates again."

"They'll not all be there…" Hermione shook her head. Her brow was furrowed with thought. Eventually she said, "Fine. I'll go. I have to face up to this some time."

Her clenched fists and the spark in her eyes told of her new-found determination. Severus nodded in approval.

"You'd better get ready. They'll be here soon."

Hermione was still getting ready when Harry, Ron and Ginny knocked on the door. Severus answered it and groaned when he saw them.

"She'll be ready in a few minutes."

He then closed the door on them.

A few seconds later, there was another knock, and Ginny's falsely sweet voice calling, "Oh, professor, aren't you going to invite us in?"

He ignored them and went to tell Hermione. She was still getting ready, and he watched her idly as she hurriedly pulled on her dress – the dark red one she had been given at Easter – and fastened her shoes. She fought with her hair for a while and managed clipped it in place in an elegant bun.

"Here," he said, and conjured an exotic looking flower – probably from Sprouts' private greenhouse – and stuck it in her hair. Her reflection gave him an odd look, and he added, "So you don't look like Minerva."

She swatted him across the stomach, but smiled at the gesture, and pulled a few strands loose to curl around her face.

"How do I look?"

"Nice," he replied, then, seeing her look, conceded, "beautiful."

She gave him a kiss, probably just to get her lipgloss on his lips, and listened to his semi-playful warnings of not to get too drunk or to flirt with any other men. Chortling, she walked into the living room and frowned.

"I thought you said they were here?"

"Hey, Hermione! Is that you?" someone called from the other side of the door.

She turned to face him and he shrugged lightly. She gave him a reproving glare, but the effect was slightly spoiled by her growing smile, and she threw open the door.

"Sorry about that."

"I should bloody well think so," Ron replied, then looked behind her.

"See you tomorrow morning, then," Severus said dryly. Hermione grinned at his assumption as he came to stand beside her, and shared a lingering kiss at which her friends turned away in disgust. Hermione didn't miss the glint of malicious pleasure in his eye.

- - -

It wasn't long after they arrived at the Three Broomsticks that they were mingling with the crowd with drinks in their hands. There was quite a crowd gathered, with most of Dumbledore's Army present, and a few others as well.

When the initial greetings calmed down, Ginny made her way through the throng to stand next to Hermione. The younger girl looked at her elder, a mixture of astonishment and awe in her gaze.

"What?" Hermione asked warily.

"Harry told me what happened," Ginny whispered back. "Wow."

Hermione snorted. "That's one way of putting it."

"And Snape?" She shook her head, although her expression was almost amused. "Well, I didn't see that coming." She sobered slightly, and said, "Seriously, though… You survived the curse. It's obvious you love each other. I know Harry and Ron may not, well, exactly like it, but I wish you every happiness."

Hermione smiled warmly at her, and pulled her into a one armed hug, careful not to spill her drink over either of them. Ginny then took a step away, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"Not to mention the fact that a good shag or two should ease the grumpy sod up."

Ginny narrowly escaped Hermione's gentle swat, and drifted back off into the crowd with a broad grin on her face. Hermione shook her head, took a sip of her drink, and walked over to see Neville, who was talking to a thrilled audience

"… had to try to keep the younger ones as safe as possible. Then they were pulled through the portrait hole, and me and Seamus tried to close the door." He faltered, remembering his fellow Gryffindor's death at the hands of the Death Eater's curse. His small group of listeners shared sympathetic glances, tinged with terror but also clearly impressed. "After that, we just had to keep everyone calm. It wasn't just me, everyone did their bit." He shrugged, and smiled gently. "It was nothing, really."

Hermione felt an odd surge of pride at Neville. His arm was still bandaged, and his limp was likely to remain for the rest of his life, but that day he had proved just why he was placed in Gryffindor, where the truly brave at heart reside.

The sound of metal tapping on glass rang through the room, cutting across all of the conversations, and the students all turned to Harry. He was stood on one of the benches at the side, and when he saw he had everyone's attention, began to speak.

"I'm not going to make a big speech, because that would be boring, and some people want to get drunk. I just- I think it would be good to raise our glasses."

There were mumbles of assent, and a solemn air descended over the group.

"To surviving. To surviving Voldemort," Harry said.

"To surviving our N.E.W.Ts," Ron offered.

"To surviving Snape," Harry added.

A few people laughed, and Neville took a hearty drink of his butterbeer, but Hermione caught Harry's eye and he winked back.

"To surviving what has been a hell of a year!"

The Boy-Who-Lived tipped his firewhiskey back, and the rest of the students followed suit.

Hermione took a deep breath, then said quietly, "To those who are no longer with us." She blinked back tears, and continued, her voice shaky, "To those who gave their life to make ours better. We shall never forget them, and what they sacrificed for us."

Harry held Hermione's gaze, his thoughts pulling up images of his parents, of Sirius and of those in the Order. He raised his glass, along with every other person in the pub, not just those from the school, and toasted those he would never see again.

- - -

Hermione didn't believe in drowning her sorrows with alcohol, yet on the way back from the pub she was on the other side of tipsy. The walk back was slow, since using the Floo was deemed rather risky in their inebriated state, and she, Ginny, Harry and Ron all staggered back up the path, arm in arm, trying to support each other.

Hermione broke off, fairly sure that it was the others pulling her over, and walked a few paces behind, amused at their winding path. The cool night air was slowly bringing her back to sobriety, but an unwelcome sight soon brought it back quicker than she wanted.

As they walked past the lake, the Forbidden Forest stood out against the starry sky. Suddenly, a cloud of darkness rose up from the forest, swirling and turning. As soon as she saw them, Hermione knew that they were thestrals.

She choked back the tears as she made the last part of journey into the castle, then left the others as she fled down to the dungeons. When she entered their rooms, she closed the door and leant against it, the wood cool and soothing against her flushed face.

She thought she was ready to move on from the loss, but obviously she was wrong. Unbidden thoughts tormented her, told her she could have saved more if only she had tried hard enough. If she had really tried to help, then the outcome would have been different, better.

She paced around in front of the fire, glad that Severus hadn't waited up for her to return. She felt she would never be free of the suffocating self-hatred. She needed time to think. She needed space to calm.

When Severus woke up in the morning, he wasn't expecting the space beside him to be empty. Looking around, he didn't expect to find no sign of Hermione's return. When he entered the living room, he certainly wasn't expecting the scribbled noted in her handwriting that merely said, _"I'm sorry"._

- - -

Thank you for all your reviews. I'm sorry I haven't posted the last two chapters before now – I kinda lost interest in fandom then moved away and had no internet. But here is the penultimate chapter – I'll post the last chapter/epilogue in a few days. Thanks again :)


	30. Chapter Thirty

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I own nothing…

Summary:_"And what if I don't want to love him?" The Oracle shook her head at Hermione and her unnerving smile widened. "No, child. It's not about want… It's more a… a matter of need." How do you love someone because you have to? That, I guess, Hermione and Severus will have to find out on their own._

Pairing: HG/SS with some AD/MM moments later on.

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**A Matter of Need**

**Chapter Thirty **

She stood outside his classroom, nervous, nauseous and quite frankly, scared. It had been a long time since Hermione had seen Severus; too long. The summer holidays had passed and September had come and gone, and it was only now that she could bear to face him.

His lesson was in session, and she could hear his comments through the door. He didn't seem to be in a good mood, which, she mused, was nothing new, and despite what she wanted to believe, her appearance probably wouldn't make his mood improve.

From within there was a great bang, and Severus' voice was clearly heard above all the panic, shouting at the imbecile who caused the explosion to leave his classroom. Hermione didn't even think to move aside, and only registered the boy hurtling at her just in time. She pressed her back up against the wall as the poor lad ran away and up the stairs, her horrified gaze fixed on Severus.

She hadn't meant to make such an entrance back into his life, especially not such a public one. He merely stood looking at her, expression unreadable, as he traced a finger over his bottom lip.

A couple of the braver students had peered around the door, and were now staring at Hermione.

"Hey, everyone, free Weasley's Wizard Wheezeys goody bag for everyone that leaves _now_," Ginny's voice rang out, her method for privacy, though slightly absurd, was greatly appreciated. Her classmates didn't need telling twice and made a swift exit. Severus didn't even seem to have noticed, and Ginny hurried past him and to the door. "Good luck," she whispered at Hermione, and followed the rest of her class up the dungeon stairs.

"What are you doing here?"

"Don't," Hermione said, her voice clearly trembling. "Don't." She force herself to make the couple of steps to take her into the classroom, wiped her sweaty palms on her robes, and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Severus. I just needed time to myself. I'm… sorry." Her voice trailed off weakly, the words unconvincing even to her own ears.

"I believe the note that you left me told me as much, but thank you for clearing things up between us. Now kindly leave. You've already interrupted my class, now go whilst I prepare for my next one."

She wasn't prepared for the acerbic edge to his voice that took her back to being a little child, facing his wrath. She clenched her fists, determined not to fall back to that Hermione; she was a woman, now, and this was the man she loved.

"I asked Albus. He told me you hadn't got another class until tomorrow."

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "interfering old bastard," and began to pile the parchments on his desk ready for leaving.

"You are not just running away from me!"

"No, because the brave Gryffindor that is Hermione Granger would never do such a thing?"

"I'm sorry, Severus. I never meant to hurt you. Never…"

"Intentions are nothing; it is the actions that define who we are and what we feel, Hermione," he said fiercely, standing up and crossing over to her. He towered above her, his dark gaze full of hurt and anger. "You ran away from your problems, and I know from experience that that never works. You also ran away from your friends, the people who love you… Now the pain that keeps you up at night has caught you, and you have to come running back home. Welcome back, Hermione. Now go."

"Do you not want to know where I've been, what these 'problems' are?" she cried. "People – my friends – have died, Severus, and I needed space to come to terms with that. I didn't mean to stay away for so long, but I went travelling for a while, spent some time on my own. I needed to take a break from the wizarding world, the world that seems to have brought nothing more than destruction."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" His voice, instead of being bitter and harsh, was raw and quiet. "Why didn't you tell me where you were going?"

"The truth?" she asked weakly, averting her eyes. "I couldn't bare to hurt you."

He laughed humourlessly. "Didn't want to hurt me? I woke up and found my bed empty and a note apologising for your disappearance. I thought you at least had a few shreds of common sense."

"So I made a mistake?" she yelled up at him. "I can't take it back, but I'm here now!"

"But now isn't when I needed you." He watched as her brow furrowed in confusion, and sighed. "You weren't the only one hurt in this war, Hermione. I lost people I was close to for years, people who I've shared more with than most people can ever dream of. I was like them, once, yet the people I face every day cursed and killed them and handed them over to the authorities without hesitation."

Hermione had no response, only to turn away and run a hand through her hair.

"You could have come after me…"

"I am not going to take the blame for this. It was your doing. Besides, since you were so desperate to leave me that you stole away in the middle of the night, I didn't think you would want that."

Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed.

"I love you, Severus."

"You knew that I loved you too. Otherwise we'd both be dead."

"I-" She swallowed and glanced away. "I don't know what I was thinking. I was confused and scared. I- Lying next to you when you were still unconscious… I couldn't help but wonder if I didn't love you as much as you loved me. I thought that if I loved you as much as you loved me, then you would have woken up. But… I love you, Severus," she repeated feebly.

Nothing; no reply.

"Would you like me to leave? If you would rather me not be here…"

"If you like," was his clipped reply.

"No. This is your option. Here I am, but if you would rather I leave and not come back, then say so."

"What would you rather do?"

"For God's sake, Severus," Hermione said, hoping with every fibre in her body that he would just say one little word. "What do you want?"

The silence was staggering, and Hermione bit her lip. Tears were falling freely now, but if he didn't want her… She felt as if her heart was breaking into infinite pieces, and all control over the situation and herself spiralled out of control and into nothingness.

Without a word, as she couldn't trust herself to speak, and with no glance back, she pulled her cloak closer around her and walked over to the door. Her mind screamed at him to say it, but he made no sound.

As she opened the door, she could feel him watching her, and with the bang as the door closed, she felt her world shatter.

Back in the classroom, Severus stared blankly at the door for a few moments. Trying to quash the sick feeling in his stomach and ignore the aching loss, he turned to pick up his papers for marking. When he reached his desk, he froze, overcome by the sense of self-loathing and pain.

Did he really want her to leave? No, not if the past months spent longing for her to come home were anything to go by. Could he forgive her for abandoning him in his time of need? He hoped that he could in time. He could understand her need to flee, even if he didn't agree with doing so; the war had been especially hard on her. Did he still love her?

Swearing under his breath and praying it wasn't too late, he quickly flung open the classroom door and went out into the corridor. No sign of her. His long legs soon took him up the stairs, and his eyes sought her out in the darkness.

A stifled sob echoed around the corridor, and he moved slowly towards the sound.

Hermione, sat in a little alcove, tensed. She knew who it was, but what he wanted…

"Stay."

One word had never meant so much to her, and she sucked in a shuddering breath as she heard it. Wiping away tears, she stood, smoothed out the front of her robes, mentally chided herself for wasting time and emerged from the dark and into Severus' view.

He looked as nervous as she had ever seen him, but as she approached him, it seemed to ebb away. With his thumb, he gently wiped away the tears that dampened her cheeks, then simply held her.

"I love you."

Severus brought her closer, and she snaked her arms around him. He tilted her head up and kissed her softly, restraining the passion and the need within him.

"I love you too, Hermione."

It wasn't long before she was pressed up against the dungeon wall, gasping for breath and panting his name as his hand and kisses roamed her body, claiming back what was rightfully his. His bites left visible signs of anger that spoke of hurt and fury, but his soothing kisses whispered acceptance and forgiveness. His powerful hands never broke contact, relearning every curve, repossessing every inch of her, until she was murmuring surrender and promising him her life eternal.

"Severus, let's… go somewhere – oh – more… private."

He never thought that one day he would be so easily bent to someone's will, yet all anger had dissipated in a frenzy, replaced only by desire and love. Yet, as he found himself taking her towards their quarters, he was glad that, just this one time, he was wrong.

- - -

The bed was empty.

Rage surged through Severus as he stared at the empty space beside him. With jerky movements as opposed to his normal self, he stalked through into the living room. She wasn't there either. Then, with nauseous realisation making a cool path down his insides, he saw a letter on the coffee table.

With some trepidation, he picked it up, and thumbed the edge of the parchment. After a moment of consideration, he scowled at his own cowardice, and opened it up.

_I'm outside by the lake_.

He dressed quickly, and was soon making his way to Hermione. His long strides meant it didn't take long to get outside, and he spotted her sat at the edge of the lake as he approached.

"Good morning."

Hermione smiled up at him as he reached her side. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the sunrise." She patted the grass beside her, and added, "Sit."

He did so, and she leant against him, easily finding a mutually comfortable position. Severus curled his arms around her possessively, and followed her gaze to look to the east, where the tendrils of light were reaching out over the horizon as the sun rose for another day.

"How long have you been out here?"

She shrugged. "A while. I couldn't sleep."

"No?"

"My mind was in other places but I didn't want to wake you up."

He quirked an eyebrow at the suggestive note in her voice, and replied, "Other places? The gutter, by any chance?"

She laughed gently and shook her head. They descended back into silence until, after a while, Hermione turned to look at him, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

"What now, Severus?"

"We could have breakfast, if you wish, then-"

"I don't mean that, and you know it."

Severus sat for a moment in silence, and replied eventually, "What do you want to do? It is entirely up to you."

"No, no it's not." Hermione smiled. "We were in this together, and we still are."

"Well… Albus was considering hiring you for the Potions position after you become Potions mistress," Severus said.

Hermione took a moment to fully realise what he had said, then swivelled around to look up at him properly.

"Really? He… Really?"

"Yes. He makes a lot of presumptions, though. If you don't want to…"

"But you'd be out of the job."

"At last."

Hermione grinned. "Well, I was thinking about it, but I don't want to do all that yet, and just have a bit of fun first, travel, you know… normal things. But after that…" She raised an eyebrow. "And you'd be okay with that? What would you do?"

"Of course. Teaching was just an excuse, a façade. Perhaps now I may have time to actually research Potions as I first intended to, all those years ago." He looked at her with fondness in his gaze. "It shouldn't take you long to find a willing tutor. I'd imagine after they see your N.E.W.Ts results they will be clamouring to get you."

Hermione's expression turned suspicious, and she said slowly, "You know something. What?"

"Do you really think it takes so long for your exams to be marked? No, the Ministry just likes to watch to make sure we're all doing our job properly – interfering along the way."

"And…?" she prodded.

"Your marks are above average," he said vaguely. She actually did prod him in the stomach this time, and he added, "Don't worry, you have the top grade."

"And percentage?"

He came close to rolling his eyes as he bit out, "One hundred and twelve percent."

She leant back, her mouth forming a wide grin, but she said, "Well, I guess I may have lost a few points-"

"Hermione," Severus cut across sternly, "you did well."

She looked up at him, a wide smile on her face, though after a while it faded as she studied him. "We're going to be alright, aren't we?"

He gazed down at her in serious contemplation, then nodded once. "I think so. I certainly hope so. After- after all we've been through I do not want to lose you again."

"Good," Hermione said promptly, and with her bright smile back in place she twisted around again to lean against him. She relaxed into his hands as they traced faint patterns over her skin, a welcome feeling of contentment coming to settle within her.

After a while, she spoke, "It feels good. Making my own choices, I mean, deciding what _I_ want to do."

"It's a privilege I've been looking forward to for some time," Severus replied darkly.

"Well, we can do what we want, now, choose for ourselves what we are going to do and when we are going to do it." She sighed lightly. "I've had enough of fate dictating my actions over the past year. At least now we're free to do as we please."

As the summer sun came up fully from over the horizon, blanketing the earth with its radiance and warmth, Hermione and Severus shared a tender kiss, as if to announce to the world the new start to their own lives.

Somewhere, far away, with a grim smile on her face, the Oracle laughed.

Fin

- - -

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone that's read this and to all those who have reviewed. Before everyone wants to hurt me, I'd just like to say that I never planned for a sequel to this story, I just liked the idea that nothing is ever as it seems, even after all they've been through. I debated deleting the last line, but ever since I thought of the idea for this story, that has always been the line I wanted to end on.

So I hope that you've enjoyed my little story, and thank you again to everyone for reading :)


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